


Reader's Special: First Edition

by Disasteriffic_Kaz



Series: The Reader's Special Marathon [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Caring, Case Fic, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Reader-Interactive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-18
Updated: 2014-04-18
Packaged: 2018-01-19 20:28:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 35,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1482835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Disasteriffic_Kaz/pseuds/Disasteriffic_Kaz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post 4X02 AYTG?IMDW This is the Reader's Special. Each chapter of this story was prompted by reader participation, weaving multiple prompts into a single chapter for a cohesive story over all. It's Literary Yoga and makes for a hell of a rambling adventure. Read and enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The events of the Reader's Specials are prompted almost entirely by my readers. After each chapter, they review with what they would like to see happen in the next chapter. I then take those prompts, however many there may be and work them together into a single chapter and have it all fit in with the overarching storyline I use as a base to work from. My own personal prompt apocalypse and I love every challenging minute of it. :D
> 
> If you would like to tool through the original reviews and see all the prompts in their entirety, visit fanfiction.net and click the 'Reviews' to sort by chapter.  
> https://www.fanfiction.net/s/7803468/1/Reader-s-Special-First-Edition

_**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-** _

_**CHAPTER 1** _

"BALLS!" Bobby shouted and slapped shut the book he was poring over. "You two need to get out of here for a day or three so I can get some damn research done!" Bobby Singer loved his boys, he did, like his own and sometimes they made him wish they were still young enough to take over his knee. Now for instance when they had spent the last several hours since waking up arguing back and forth about Angels, Demons, God and the Devil and pretty much anything else that had come up…including the current argument over who had drunk the last cup of coffee without making more. He'd hit his limit. A vacation was starting to sound pretty damn sexy.

"Problem, Bobby?" Dean asked, sarcasm winning out over common sense and Bobby glared until his eyes hit the floor.

"You're not too old for me to take out back, son." Bobby growled and stood up. "Think you boys need a change of scenery." Dean was obviously still stressed about his mysterious return from Hell and Sam frankly looked as though he'd gone a few rounds with Tyson. Boy had to be damn sore to keep rising to his older brother's bait. Bobby yanked a paper out from the bottom of a pile on the corner of his desk and tossed it to Sam. "Job for ya. Go. Kill something and get it out of yer systems before I kill one of ya."

"Bobby…" Sam started but Bobby waved his hand at them and turned back to his desk. He sat and pointedly reopened his book, lifting it to block them from his field of vision.

"Well that's just great." Dean muttered and headed for the stairs. "Good job, Sam."

"What?" Sam followed him upstairs to pack their things and resisted the urge to slap his brother on the back of the head. "You're the one who couldn't let the damn coffee go."

Bobby shook his head, listening to his two favorite idjits as they carried on while they packed and back downstairs and all the way out the door. He figured they'd be back in a few days either calmer with each other or with each others boot prints on their faces. Either way they should be quieter. He listened to the Impala rumble away and took a deep breath, savoring the silence.

_**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-** _

Sam shifted in the passenger seat again, trying to relieve the ache of his bruises. He'd taken a few hits; first from the ghost of Henrikson and then from a desk used as a blunt weapon to pin him to a wall. He was a mess of bruises, head and chest, and already missed being able to stretch out in bed at Bobby's.

"Dude, you got ants in your pants over there or what?" Dean grumbled, still irritated.

Sam gave him a sarcastic smile. "You even know where we're going?"

"Of course I know where we're going." Dean shot back. "That way." He pointed out the windshield and Sam snorted.

"That's what I thought." Sam pulled out the paper Bobby had given him and then groaned. "Dude, you _are_ going the wrong way. Turn around."

Dean said nothing, just growled under his breath and made a U-turn on the empty road. "Where the hell is he sending us anyway?"

"Charleston, West Virginia." Sam pulled the road map out of the glove box and starting plotting their path South East. "Not a lot of details there." He gestured at the paper he'd set on the seat beside him. "Five bodies on the ground already. Some torture, blood loss, couple were missing hearts but not all." Sam shrugged.

"Well hell, that could be any of a dozen things." Dean rolled his eyes. "Dude sit still already. What's wrong with you?"

Sam shook his head, trying to stop moving. "Nothing. I'm fine."

"Uh huh." Dean eyed him but said nothing more.

_**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-** _

The Impala growled into Peoria, Illinois at two in the morning. Normally, Dean would have toughed it out and driven the last eight hours straight through to Charleston in the mood he was in. He'd had seven hours however to watch Sam squirm, see the scrunched face and realize that his brother had taken the brunt of the physical abuse while they'd dealt with the Witnesses. Sam slept now, curled against the passenger window and looked far from comfortable; bent over, one leg on the seat with a knee against the window and an arm across his stomach. The kid needed to stretch out.

Dean turned toward the airport, following the signs and looked for a motel. Airports were always a good place to find a cheap one that wasn't at the complete bottom end of the food chain. The Four Points Motel beckoned with its vacancy sign and he pulled up to the office, leaving Sam sleeping as he went in to get them a room.

_**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-** _

_To Be Continued…_

_I know. Short first chapter but this is just our starting point. From here on out,_ _**you're** _ _the drivers. I've got Shotgun and the pen._


	2. Chapter 2

_**CHAPTER 2** _

"Come on, Sammy. I aint carrying you." Dean opened the passenger door and shot a hand out, stopping his brother from sliding to the pavement as he woke up.

"Huh?" Sam blinked groggily at Dean, earning a smirk.

"Never let it be said you don't wake up sharp." Dean snorted. "Motel. Sleep. Come on."

Sam unfolded himself out of the car, hanging on the door for a moment. "I'll get the bags."

"Already in the room." Dean turned his drowsy brother and gave him a shove toward the open door. "Go."

Sam ran his hands through his hair, grimacing as the motion pulled the bruises on his stomach and back and went inside. He took the time to pull off his jacket and flopped face down on the bed farthest from the door with a groan. He shifted, curling slightly to get off his stomach and was asleep again before Dean shut the door, chuckling softly at him. "Some things don't change, do they Sammy?" Dean said and rolled his eyes. He went to his brother and bent, tugging on one sneaker. Sam mumbled and tried to tug his foot away.

"I can do it." Sam said tiredly but Dean slapped his hand away.

"Shut up." Dean dropped it and tugged the other sneaker off then grabbed the arm Sam aimed at him again and pulled him upright. "Alright. Let's see why you been squirming all damn day." Sam gurgled a protest when Dean took hold of his shirts and yanked them up. "Shit, Sammy." There were bruises roughly the shape of a desk top on his chest and stomach. Dean pulled the shirts off over his brother's head and pulled his shoulders forward to see similar bruising up his back and across his shoulders. "When did that happen?"

"Bathroom." Sam said, wincing. "Henrickson. Tossed me into the wall." He scrunched his face up and leaned forward with a hiss. "Oh and the car." Sam snorted. "Windshield'll never be the same."

Dean choked for a moment on big brother guilt that he hadn't noticed all this earlier and then swallowed it back. "Shower, Sam." Dean pulled him upright and steadied him. "You'll never walk in the morning if you don't loosen that mess up."

"I'll shower tomorrow." Sam shook his head and sat back down, rolling stiffly back to his side. He wanted sleep more than anything and closed his eyes.

"Dammit." Dean shrugged. "Fine, just don't blame me when you can't stand up in the morning." He said it fondly though and watched as Sam dropped almost instantly into sleep. The way the bruising was progressing, Sam was going to be in six kinds of misery tomorrow. It bothered him how easy Sam decided to ignore the pain in favor of sleep and wondered how many times, while he'd been in the pit, that Sam had been forced to do the same all alone. He'd deal with it; shove painkillers down his throat if he had too.

He salted the door and window to keep them safe, tugged the comforter from his own bed and arranged it over Sam then flopped into a chair at the little table next to the TV and sighed. He didn't want to sleep. Never mind the nightmares that were visiting him nightly, he wasn't so keen on a repeat visit from Castiel in his sleep. He scrubbed a hand over his face and stood; to restless to just sit. He needed a drink and stepped outside with a last glance at Sam. He'd just walk over to the bar he'd seen down the street and catch a couple beers before last call.

_**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-** _

Dean sat miserably on a stool at the end of the bar. He raised a hand for another beer as the bartender shouted 'Last call!' and lined it up with the other three, empty mugs beside it. He was stuck with the image of Sam's face in his head; the look that said he knew Dean wasn't telling him everything about Hell. How could he? Dean could barely stand to look at the memories himself and Sam wanted to have a heart to heart about the freakin pit? He chugged back half the fresh beer. He understood. Sam wanted to help him carry the burden; he felt the same overwhelming guilt Dean had lived with after their father had made the same deal for him. He hated himself for doing that to Sam, for making his little brother live with that self-hate but he'd do it again; in a heartbeat and Sam would just have to live with it.

"Closing time, buddy." The Bartender cleared his empties and looked meaningfully at the half full beer in front of him.

Dean gave him a tight smile, nodded and downed the rest. He dropped a bill on the bar and got up, not nearly enough alcohol in his system to make him want to sleep. He left the bar and took a deep breath of the crisp, cold air as he stepped outside and turned back toward the Motel. Hopefully, there was enough whiskey left in the first aid kit to give him a few hours' sleep.

_**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-** _

Sam groaned awake to the sound of banging on the wall near his head. He rolled to his back and cracked his eyes open on the dark room. "Dean?" He looked over to the other bed and saw it was still made and empty. He rolled slowly off the bed and checked the bathroom. He was alone. Dean had gone somewhere and, as he flipped the light by the bed on, he hadn't left a note either. "Great." He'd no doubt gone to find the nearest bar and a stiff drink. His drinking habits hadn't improved in the short time he'd been back.

Banging on the wall drew his attention again and Sam sighed. The banging was accompanied by the distinctive giggling, moans of a woman and a man's laugh and he dropped his head. "Please tell me I'm not gonna have to listen to that all damn night." He said softly. He got a glass of water in the bathroom and nearly dropped it when the woman next door screamed. "Shit!" Sam ran to the door, threw it open and skidded to the door next to theirs. The cold air bit into his bare torso as he pounded on the door. "Hey! Open up!"

There was no answer and he stepped back to kick it in when the door flew open. Arms reached out, grabbing him and pulled Sam inside with a surprised shout.

_**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-** _

Dean rested his head against the motel room door for a moment before sliding the key in the lock. He opened it and blinked. The light was on and Sam was…nowhere to be seen. "Sammy?" The bathroom was empty as well and his brother's beat up, green jacket still lay at the foot of his bed. "What the hell?" His Hunter's instincts nagged at him and he looked carefully about the room. His eyes narrowed when he spotted the scattered salt by the door. The line was intact but Sam…or someone had stepped through it. He opened the door and looked outside. There were particles of salt on the pavement leading clearly to the door next to theirs.

He drew his gun, laying it along his leg and went to the door, pounding on it. "Open up!" Dean didn't need to be told; every instinct he had said his brother was in there, or had been and his patience was nil because of it. He heard startled voices and then the one he needed to hear shouted his name. Dean kicked the door in, blocking its rebound with his hip as he leveled the gun and stepped in.

Sam was pinned, face into the wall by a guy possibly bigger than he was and a woman sat on the bed, barely dressed and eyes wide in glee. She screeched in surprise however at the sight of Dean. The man looked up startled from Sam's neck and Dean so didn't want to know what the guy had been doing there.

"Get the hell off my brother before I drop you." Dean growled dangerously.

"Whoa. Whoa man." The guy let go of Sam and stepped back, clearly afraid. "Brother? I don't get it. We didn't ask for a brother."

Sam spun from the wall and dropped the guy with a well-placed kick to the groin, making Dean smile with pride.

"I'm sorry, asked for?" Dean kept the gun on the moaning man on the floor curled around his jewels but glared at the woman who shrank back into the bed. Sam wrapped his arms around his bare chest and stepped over to Dean's side.

The woman suddenly blushed and pulled the sheet up to her chin. "Ah, well….we were…it's our anniversary." Her scared eyes flicked to her husband who had yet to uncurl. "Um….we thought he was the…you know, we bought a…fantasy."

"Excuse me?" Dean stared in surprise and saw Sam shiver beside him. "Dude, go back to the room." Dean told him and shoved Sam behind him and out the door with one arm but Sam stayed outside the room.

"It was a silly fantasy. He was supposed to be a, you know…unwilling partner." The woman said softly. "I swear we didn't know he wasn't…I mean, Gary would never have done…done anything if we'd known."

"Holy crap." Dean lowered the gun and rubbed a hand over his face before looking back up, embarrassed for Sam, angry at the couple and amused on a purely guy level. "I think you two should find somewhere else to get your kicks tonight." Dean stared at both people until they dropped their eyes. "We're next door. You don't wanna piss me off again tonight. Come on, Sammy." Dean stepped out and slammed the door, hearing an answering squeak of fear from the woman inside and pushed his shivering brother to their own room. "Why the hell'd you go over there anyway?"

"Heard her scream." Sam muttered, rubbing his hands along his own arms while Dean shut the door behind them. "Thought she needed help."

Dean shook his head. He frowned when Sam slapped a hand out to the wall, stopping himself from swaying. "Hey you ok?"

Sam nodded slowly. "Yeah, just…hurts." He waved a hand at his bruises. "Taking a shower." He said and went into the bathroom, closing the door behind him on Dean's worried face.

Dean slid his gun under the pillow on his bed and unzipped his duffel. He pulled out the first aid kit and smiled at the three quarters full bottle of whiskey. He figured they could both use a shot at this point. He set it on the table and then went to Sam's bed. He pulled his brothers bag out from under it and dug out his sweats and a shirt. Dean opened the bathroom door quietly, hearing the water running and slipped in to leave the clothes on top of the toilet and then back out, closing the door soundlessly. He ignored how perilously close to a chick flick he was getting and poured himself a drink in one of the plastic cups he unwrapped from the table by the TV. He gulped it back with a sigh and poured another as the shower shut off.

Sam stepped out of the shower in a cloud of steam and felt a little better. He'd been about to break himself loose of the idiot in the next room when Dean's voice came through the door. Sheer relief had frozen him for a moment. The shock of what those people had been planning still coursed through him and then he saw the pile of clothes on the toilet seat and hiccupped a breath.

"Dean." He said softly and closed his eyes. Sam fought the tears trying to escape. The simple act, something that he hadn't seen since Dean went to Hell rocked him with love and relief and sheer awe once more that his brother had escaped. "Crap." Sam breathed and wiped rough hands over his eyes and then dressed in the clothes thoughtfully left. The hot water had relieved some of the ache and muscle stiffness from his bruises. It was a relief and he opened the bathroom door with a lighter heart.

"Figure you could use this." Dean greeted him and held out a little plastic cup with a shot of whiskey in it. "Doctor's orders."

Sam debated and then nodded. "Rather have a beer." He grumbled as he took the cup, tapped it to the table in unison with Dean and threw it back.

"You ever wonder why we can't have a normal night?" Dean asked with a smirk and refilled both their cups.

Sam snorted. "You figure out what normal is, let me know." He sat across from Dean and settled for leaning his crossed arms on the table; his back protesting being against the hard back of the chair. Both men tilted their heads, listening to a series of thumps from the next room, the door opening and slamming shut and then the sound of a car starting and peeling out.

Dean chuckled. "Guess they took my advice." He raised his cup to Sam in silent toast and knocked it back. "Drink up and go get some sleep." He told his brother. Sam nodded, swallowing the whiskey and went to his bed, curling on his side once more.

"Don't worry, Sammy. I'll protect your innocence." Dean smirked and chuckled at the middle finger thrown his way. "Get some sleep."

"You too." Sam said sleepily, not really hearing the noncommittal sound his brother made as he dozed gratefully away.

Dean watched his brothers' tense shoulders relax as sleep claimed him and poured another shot. He was finally starting to feel the buzz of alcohol in his system and hoped a few more shots would let him claim a couple hours undisturbed for himself. He blew out a breath and froze with the glass halfway to his mouth. His breath misted out of his mouth in a cloud. "Oh come on!" Dean said and rose hastily to his feet. He looked automatically to the door and saw the unbroken salt line. "No freakin way. No way!" He dodged to the room's window, sweeping the curtain back and the line there too was intact. "How…"

"Ahh!" Sam's surprised cry whipped Dean around in time to see his little brother picked up and thrown against the far wall.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean dodged to his bed and the duffel, reaching in for the shotgun.

"Dean?" Sam asked groggily from where he'd slid to the floor, one hand rubbing the back of his head. "What the hell?"

"It's a freakin ghost!" Dean shouted and pulled out the gun. It was ripped from his hand and he felt himself picked up and thrown sideways through the bathroom door. He grunted with the impact above the sink and shook his head as he tumbled to the floor. "Sam?"

Sam leaned forward, reaching for the discarded shotgun and was picked up again. He thought he saw Dean through the bathroom door and then he was thrown into the same spot on the wall. He crawled to his knees as his head swam and groaned as he was pulled up by his shirt. Sam squinted his eyes open and saw the vague shape of a woman as he was tossed yet again into the wall. This time the wall cracked with the impact. Distantly he heard the bathroom door slam shut and his brother yelling his name.

"Stop." Sam said, rolling painfully to his knees in a shower of plaster particles. "What…what do you want?"

The woman said nothing. She took his shirt again, dragging him away and then threw him again into the same area of wall. Sam lost track of her when he felt the plaster and wood split under his weight, the wall give and he fell to the floor like a rag doll.

Dean argued with the doorknob, pulling uselessly. "Shit!" He cursed and took hold of it again. He could hear the commotion from the other room, hear his brother grunting and crying out. Dean twisted and pulled and the door flew open, slamming him back into the sink. He pushed up and dashed out. Sam lay in a heap at the base of the back wall of the room, a Sam sized hole in the wall above him. Dean scooped the shotgun from the floor and looked around. There was no sign of a spirit.

"Sammy?" Dean called his name but got no response, ratcheting his worry level up even higher. He went and knelt beside Sam, senses alert for the spirits return and put a trembling hand to his brothers neck. "Ok, Sammy. You're ok." He could feel the strong pulse beating beneath his fingers and stood. He tried to wrap his head around how the ghost could have gotten in past the salt. As he did, he glanced at the new hole and then did a double take. He could just see the top of a skull through the cracked plaster.

"Son of a bitch." Dean breathed and shook his head. He reached a hand out and pulled a piece of plaster loose, revealing more of the skeleton and sighed. "You could have just freakin told us!" He said loudly, angrily. "Alright! We know where you're buried, ok? You showed us."

The temperature in the room dropped again, making his breath puff out. "Thank you." The words breathed through the room softly, the voice clearly feminine and the temperature went back to normal.

Dean rounded his shoulders in relief and then dropped to Sam again, laying the shotgun aside. "Sam? Sammy?" Dean tapped lightly on his cheek but got nothing. "Ok, let's get you on the bed. Here we go, buddy." Dean got a firm hold around his chest and lifted Sam until he was leaning bonelessly against him. He half dragged, half carried his little brother to the bed and laid him down on his stomach. He had a feeling it was his back he needed to see.

Dean pulled the shirt up and hissed. New bruises were already forming all across his back. He swept a hand into Sam's hair at the back of his head and felt a growing lump at the back of his skull. "Ah dammmit." No wonder the kid wouldn't wake up. "Sammy, you don't show me those puppy dog eyes of yours soon I'm takin' you to the hospital whether you like it or not." It had been ingrained in them since childhood; you didn't mess around with a concussion. He gently rolled Sam onto his back and plucked his eyelids open, checking his pupils. They reacted to the light but not at the same time and Dean groaned, leaving his hand on the side of Sam's face.

"Wake up, Sammy." Dean said firmly. He used his other hand to rub his knuckles firmly into Sam's sternum. He knew from experience it was painful, damn irritating and impossible to ignore. It had usually been their father doing it to him when he'd taken one too many knocks to the head as a teenage Hunter. Sam stirred, moaned softly. "That's it, buddy. Come on." He rubbed harder and was rewarded when Sam's eyes cracked open.

"Gunh." Sam managed, unintelligible but the meaning clear; what happened.

"Ghost used your gigantor body as a battering ram, man." Dean smiled and waited for Sam's eyes to focus on him. "She's in the wall. Hey, hey. Keep those eyes open. Look at me."

Sam fought to do as Dean asked, his brothers face and the room spinning in a way that threatened to bring the whiskey back up. "M'here." He mumbled and then moaned, shifting, trying to roll off his back. Dean helped him get on his side.

"Yeah I know it hurts." Dean propped a pillow behind him. "Your back's gonna be damn painful in a few hours. Just stay there, ok? Stay awake. I'm gonna pack up the room." He stood and stopped when Sam's hand grabbed onto his jacket. Dean answered the unspoken question. "Dude we're not staying here. There's a body in the freakin wall. I'll find us another place. Plenty to choose from then make an anonymous call. Just stay awake."

Sam nodded slowly, feeling his head rattle and watched the blurry form of his big brother work quickly to pack their things. Dean would stop every minute or so and call his name, waiting until he got a response. He took the bags out to the car and came back in for Sam.

"Okay, just let me do the work." Dean told him and levered Sam up to sit. Sam's face turned green and he dropped his head forward onto Dean's shoulder with a groan. "Dude, don't puke on me." Sam gave a weak nod, not trusting himself to speak and let Dean pull him up and guide him around the beds and outside. "Little further. Almost there." Dean led him to the back door of the Impala, figuring the back seat was a better choice than having him try to sit up. He got Sam in, settling his head on the pillow he'd made with his jacket.

"Okay, Sam." Dean took the blanket he'd pulled from the trunk and spread it over him. "Few more minutes we'll have a new room and I'll take another look at you. No sleeping!" Dean swatted Sam's long leg when his eyes fluttered closed and shot open again.

"M'kay." Sam slurred and blinked blurry, hazel eyes at him.

"Good." Dean shut the door and ran around to the driver's seat. He slid in and adjusted the mirror so he could see Sam's pale face as he revved the engine. "Only us." Dean said ruefully. Only Winchester luck could have caused the night they were having. He pulled out and sped onto the street in search of a safer motel.

_**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-** _

_To Be Continued...  
_


	3. Chapter 3

_**CHAPTER 3** _

Peoria dropped behind them and Dean drove with one eye on his brother in the back seat. The more he'd thought about it after making the anonymous call to the cops about their ghost in the wall, he'd decided staying in town was just a bad idea. It was too much of a risk; if the motel clerk remembered their faces, if there were cameras anywhere it would put them on the Cop's radar again and he couldn't risk it. So he drove on out of town with Sam curled in the back seat and trying not to look like a kicked puppy; it wasn't working.

"You still awake back there?" Dean asked and saw the dark head of hair nod.

"Yeah." Sam said and slowly pushed himself up further. The swimming in his head was subsiding while the pain in his back was flaring up. Dean had stopped and made him swallow a couple painkillers and he was waiting for them to kick in.

"How's that hard of yours?"

"Still in one piece." Sam told him, groaning as he made an attempt at sitting up.

"Just lay back, Sam." Dean told him. "Dude, that chick messed you up."

"I'm ok." Sam argued and took a few deep breaths once he was vertical, looking up to meet Dean's eyes in the rearview mirror. "Really, man."

Dean nodded and put his eyes back on the road just in time to see something flash in his headlights as it flew out on the road. "Shit!" Dean swerved, trying to avoid what suspiciously looked like tire spikes. He felt the front right tire explode and the Impala swung wide in a circle, sliding sideways off the road and into the ditch. It tipped up sideways. Dean's head slapped into the window, stars exploding across his vision and he knew nothing else.

_**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-** _

Dean groaned and shifted, turning his head and that dragged a moan out of him. His head felt like it was being used as a maraca. "Crap." He said softly and opened his eyes. He was still in the car and pressed against the driver side door as it was tilted in a ditch. "Gah…Sammy?" He asked. "Sam, you ok back there?" He used the seat and steering wheel to pull himself up and looked over the bench seat. "Sammy!" It was empty. His jacket was there but his little brother was gone. He looked up when a cold breeze hit his face and he saw the door was open,

"Oh no." Dean dragged himself up to the door and carefully climbed out. "Sammy! Where are you?" Panic swept through him at the thought Sam had been thrown from the car. Something was off though, he thought as he scrambled out onto the shoulder of the road. He looked back at the car and frowned. If Sam had been thrown, surely the window in the door would have been shattered. The road was empty. He dug a small flashlight out of his pocket and shined it on the ground and felt a scowl pull at his face.

"Son of a bitch." There were several sets of footprints in the mud around the door and muddy handprints on the frame of his baby that didn't belong to either Winchester. He dropped his aching head into his hands for a moment and then strode around the car, following the prints and seeing them trail off into the dark woods beyond. "Okay. Okay. Hang on, Sammy." He went to the trunk and opened it, propping the weapons cache open he loaded up with his handgun, the shotgun and then shoved the first aid kit and some other essentials into a duffel, slinging it over his shoulder. He slammed the trunk shut and headed for the trees, light illuminating the footprints ahead of him.

_**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-** _

Sam came awake with a start and tried to thrash in sheer panic. He was suffocating. He couldn't move. His long limbs were pushed together, trapping him in a tight dark space and he gasped. "DEAN!" He shouted and then realized whatever he was in was moving when it dropped with a sudden thump, making him grunt in pain.

"Shut up in there." There were three, hard knocks and Sam knew he was in some sort of box, being carried by…he had no idea.

The last thing he remembered was being in the Impala, Dean asking if he was alright and then nothing. He could hear voices talking outside, low and angry.

"Hey! What the hell's going on?" Sam yelled, trying to kick his way out again and felt an even harder bang on his prison.

"You can shut up, Winchester or we'll make you." A voice growled very close to his head, loud enough for him to hear.

"Who are you?" Sam wasn't going to give up without a fight. If he could just get them to open the box he was sure he could do something. He needed them to open the box. He was so cramped his arms and legs had begun to go numb. His back was a misery however, the bruises protesting being pressed so hard against the box and his head pounded with what he was sure was yet another bump.

"We're your judge, jury and executioner." The voice told him and Sam's blood ran cold. "You didn't really think you get to start the damn apocalypse and walk away?" Sam gasped, breathing heavy and shocked and the voice laughed. "Thought that would shut him up. Come on, get that thing up. His brother won't stay out forever."

Sam heaved a breath in relief. Dean was alive. He grinned in the darkness of his prison. Dean was alive and they were worried about him catching up. They should be.

_**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-** _

Dean stumbled in the darkness. His head thumped and worse, he was pretty sure he'd had an up close and personal at some point during the crash with the steering wheel. His chest and stomach were throbbing. He walked with one arm holding his stomach, trying to relieve the ache threatening to take him to his knees. He wouldn't stop though. He wanted to find the walking corpses who had his brother and who had attacked his baby.

"Bastards." Dean growled, envisioning tortures even the pit would be proud of. He trudged on in the darkness wondering how long until Dawn. He checked his watch and saw it was four in the morning. "Man I should be in bed." He muttered. It was cold and he cussed at himself for leaving his jacket in the backseat. "Dammit."

Thankfully it was cold enough and had been wet enough at some point that the footprints were well preserved and clear. He stumbled into a small clearing and frowned, panning the light across the indentations. Three sets of footprints and in the center, a rectangle; like a very heavy box had been dropped there. His eyes widened as realization sank in.

"Shit, Sammy." He rubbed a hand over his face. They had his little brother crammed in a box barely big enough for a kid from the looks of it. "I'm gonna kill 'em."

_**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-** _

Sam was torn between a need to throw up from his pounding head and the desperate need to stretch out and relieve his arms and legs. His knees were in his face, one arm pressed into his stomach and the other crushed beneath his back at an awkward angle that was making his shoulder sing with fresh pain. Whoever had kidnapped him wasn't interested in his comfort.

"Let me out of here!" Sam shouted and tried to push down the panic that was welling up. He'd been trapped inside the too small box for too long and it was beginning to wear on his nerves. "Dammit open the damn box!" The air was stale. They hadn't bothered to drill any holes for him. "HEY!"

The box thumped to the ground again and a sharp kick was delivered to the side, making Sam grunt in pain. He sucked in several panicked breaths, eyes widening in the darkness when he heard the lid being shifted.

"Get it open." A voice said and Sam tried to tense his muscles, to ready himself to make a break for it. The lid opened, the bright beam of a flashlight shining in his face blinding him and he tried to swing his legs out. Nothing happened. They had been cramped in one position for too long and were numb.

"Move. I'm tired of his bitchin'." A grizzled face bent over Sam suddenly, blocking out the flashlight and he saw a needle moving in.

"No!" Sam yelled and managed to wrestle one leg into movement and a pathetic kick.

"Aw hold his ass down already." The man with the needle said. Hands reached in and pressed his legs back, compressing them even further and he cried out when the first man dragged his arm out and yanked it straight. "Hold still, Winchester. Wouldn't wanna miss." Sam tried to struggle, his movements weak and sluggish and couldn't stop the needle from biting into his arm. He cried out again when whatever chemical was inside burned into his veins.

His arm and legs were shoved back in and the lid slammed back over his head as his head began to swim. Sam moaned, trying to fight it but couldn't as the world joined his head, turning round and round and his head lolled onto his chest. It didn't knock him out, that would have been a blessing. Instead it just made him boneless and confused; he felt like he'd just spent a night drinking with Dean and was one step away from passing out. He wished he could to escape the suffocating closeness of his prison.

The box was picked back up, Sam felt it rocking and the sensation wasn't helping him orient himself. He struggled against the confines, wanting to badly to be out. He needed to get out. Even through the drug his breathing was close to panic; to hyperventilating and the only thought he could keep in his head was 'Dean'. Dean would come. They were scared of him. Dean would come.

His prison thumped back to the ground with an explosion, making him cry out through the drugs in his system. Voices shouted over him, around him. He wished he could see anything but his only companion was darkness and the sounds of…he thought maybe it sounded like a fight.

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Dean tread lightly through the trees. He'd gotten close enough he could hear voices ahead, muffled by the woods. He slid into them, getting closer and closer and jerked in surprise when he heard Sam's voice clearly crying out. He growled low under his breath and made himself stay calm, easing up behind them. Dean could see the wash of flashlights through the trees, heard men grunting and knew they were moving again. He picked up his pace and finally had his first sight of them; three men, two of whom were carrying a large box between them. Dean raised his shotgun, loaded with rock salt and fired into their legs.

The men collapsed, the box dropping between them with a thud, their cries filling the woods. The third man rounded on Dean, a handgun rising and he Dean tackled him to the ground. He reared back and plowed his fist into the grizzled face beneath him over and over until the stranger was an unmoving bloody mess on the forest floor. Dean crawled off him and pulled his own desert eagle from his back, leveling it at the two remaining men.

"Should have killed me." Dean told them, voice gravelly with the threat of death. "I figure you know that now." The two men writhing on the ground over their legs nodded quickly. "Get the hell up." They struggled to their feet, legs bleeding like hamburger meat from the embedded rock salt and stood swaying in front of Dean.

Dean fired one round into the ground at their feet. "Run." Whether it was the threat of the gun or the clear knowledge they were going to die if they stayed in his piercing green eyes, they listened and both men broke into a staggering run away into the trees. Dean itched with the need to kill them but he took a deep breath and let them go, lowering his gun. He returned to the third man, checking for a pulse and nodded when he found one. He turned his back on him knowing the idiot would be out for hours if he ever woke up and this once, he didn't feel much remorse about that.

Dean went to the box and dropped beside it. It was an old steamer trunk with thick ropes wrapped around it to keep the lid closed. He put his gun away and drew his knife from his boot. "Hang on, Sam." He sliced through the ropes, letting them drop and muscled the lid up. "Sam?" His brother was packed in like a sardine, knees in his face.

"D…Dean?" Sam's voice was soft, slurred. He had to be hallucinating. Sam couldn't move his head and jerked when he felt hands take his face and lift it up.

"Shh, Sammy. It's me. It's Dean." Dean looked down into his brother's pale face as he lifted it up to the moonlight and watched his eyes flicker sluggishly open. "Man what'd they do to you?" A new wave of anger flew through him and he considered hunting down the two he'd let go.

"Dean?" Sam focused his eyes on him and gasped in relief. Dean had come. "S'reallyou?"

Dean pushed a hand through his hair. "Yeah, Sam. It's me. Gotta get you outta here, ok?" It was bad enough what they'd done to him but now Dean had to cause him more pain. Sam had been in the box for more than an hour. There was no way coming out wasn't going to hurt. "Sam?" He tilted his brother's face up again and got a weak nod in response.

"Drugged…me" Sam told him, closing his eyes and frowning. "S'needle…burned."

"Shit!" Dean cursed and looked back at the one he'd put on the ground for a moment. "Lucky you're out you son of a bitch." He turned back to Sam. "Ok, just…this is gonna hurt. Sorry, man." He took a moment to figure out how he was going to get him out and then grabbed one of Sam's legs. He unbent it and pulled it out of the box. Sam groaned. Dean reached in and got both hands under his shoulders, pushing to get a grip under him and pulled.

Sam felt Dean's hands slip under his arms, around his back. His right leg felt as though ants were beginning to crawl along it and he twitched as Dean suddenly pulled him upwards. He couldn't help it; he cried out. His back, shoulders, hell all of him protested the movement as Dean freed him from the prison and held all his weight.

Dean lowered him gently to the ground, breathing heavily and knelt over him. "Sammy?" He ran a hand over his face, pushing the shaggy hair out of his eyes. His little brother's eyes rolled in their sockets, glassy with whatever drug he'd been given.

"Sh…shit." Sam managed after a moment and tried to focus on Dean's face. "Tha'hurt."

"I know." Dean checked his pulse, frowning at how it seemed to gallop beneath his fingers. Sam groaned and arched beneath his hand.

"Ah…god. Dean!" Sam yelled and started heaving for air.

"What? What is it?" Dean held him down. "Talk to me, Sammy."

"Arms…legs." Sam slammed his eyes shut against the agony starting to burn up his arms and legs as the blood flow was restored. "Burning! I'm burning!"

"Shit. No you're not. You're not, Sam." Dean groaned and started rubbing Sam's arms and legs. He should have thought. He'd been trapped, pretzeled for so long, the blood returning had to be unbearable. He took a turn at each arm and leg, back and forth, rubbing his hands along each, trying to massage the blood in faster and shorten the suffering Sam was experiencing as he writhed on the ground.

Sam was lost to the pain in the drug haze. It was all he could focus on. He heard a voice crying out, shouting and after a while thought it might be his own. Slowly, the pain began to fall in the background and he could feel his brother rubbing his arms and legs. He cracked his eyes open and felt Dean's hands stop, saw his brother lean in and stare down at him.

"Sammy? Any better?" Dean was tired and sore and wanted nothing more than to fall down but all of that he shoved aside. "Come on, talk to me. You in there?"

Sam nodded. "S'better." Sam's head rolled to the side and he saw one of his kidnappers laying out on the ground. "Knew."

"Huh?" Dean followed his line of sight and raised a brow. "Knew what?" He turned Sam's head back and tapped his cheek lightly. "Pull it together. Knew what, Sam?"

"Knew." Sam struggled to order his fragmenting thoughts. "They…knew who…who we are. Said m'name."

Dean rocked back on his knees in shock and gave a dark look to the man he'd taken down. "Hunters then. They say why?"

Sam nodded and closed his eyes again. "Apocalypse."

Dean dropped his head in sudden understanding though he was stunned anyone, any Hunter would do this to another. "Ok, come on. I'm getting you out of here." Dean got his arms around Sam once more and pulled him up. He held on when Sam lurched toward the ground again, legs giving out. "You gotta help me out, Sammy. No way I'm carrying you all the way back to the car. Dammit." Dean groaned. "Man I don't even know if I can get her out of the ditch."

"Ditch?" Sam fought his rubbery legs and the spinning in his head to stay upright. "Wha..ditch?"

Dean gave him a sharp look. "Sam, dude we crashed. You don't remember?" Sam's surprised expression answered for him. "Great. Ok Sasquatch. Let's get you movin'."

Sam swayed as they walked…well, stumbled and wove between the trees. The sky was lightening above them and Dean could get a better look at his brother. There was a red mark above his left eye, no doubt from connecting with the window or door during the crash. It only served to emphasize just how painfully pale Sam was.

"Sammy." Dean said his name firmly when his brother started another slow slide to the ground. He jerked and took some of his weight again.

"Dude…" Sam rolled his head onto Dean's shoulder. "I'm…I'm…am'I drugged?"

Dean snorted, finding a small piece of humor in the whole mess. "Yeah man. You're roasted. Just keep walkin'."

By the time they reached the road again, dawn was well upon them and Dean cursed. "Son of a bitch!" The Impala was no longer in the ditch. She had been pulled out and waited, as if beckoning on the side of the road. A tow truck was pulled up in front of her and Dean smirked at the name on the door.

"You damned idjits!" Bobby stalked out from behind his truck and waited for them to reach him. "Where the hell have you been? Why didn't you call?" The older Hunter took a good look at them and his eyes went wide. "What the hell happened?" He jumped forward and got under Sam's under shoulder to help Dean support his weight.

"Bobby?" Sam cracked his eyes open and grinned stupidly at him. "Hey Dean!" Sam smiled at his older brother. "Bobby's'ere."

"He high?" Bobby asked severely, gearing up for another tirade while Dean chuckled.

"Not on purpose. How'd you know to come after us?" Dean asked, thoroughly confused.

"You didn't call." Bobby helped Dean guide Sam to the car. "So I tried to call you, figured you'd need some details on the case only no one answered." Bobby pulled the passenger door open and nodded when Dean gestured to the backseat. "Then I remembered you're Winchesters and figured you'd found some trouble on the way."

"Geez, Bobby have a little faith." Dean groaned as he loaded Sam into the backseat once more, settling his head on the pillow of his jacket and pulling the blanket over top of him. "Guess we deserve it this time though." Dean said and closed the passenger door, leaning against it with a sigh. "Bobby you would not believe the crap we've fallen into in the last twenty four hours."

Bobby snorted. "Bet I would." Bobby brushed a hand over the bump on Dean's forehead and sighed. "Why don't you tell me what happened, son?"

Dean did, in fits and starts and had to stick his head in the car a couple times to reassure Sam who took turns panicking and sleeping and once, singing Hey Jude for no reason he could figure.

"You boys should come back." Bobby said, feeling guilty now for sending them off in the first place. "Just until you're both a hundred percent."

"We're ok, Bobby." Dean said and smiled.

"Horse crap. You look like hammered crap." Bobby said and scowled. "And don't try and tell me he can handle a hunt right now." He gestured in the car to Sam.

"He'll be fine in a day or so." Dean said surely. "Look, Bobby. You were right. We needed to get out and do…something." Dean looked away, taking a breath. "I was goin' stir crazy just sitting around."

Bobby schooled his face to hide the pain he was feeling for Dean and settled for a nod. "I know, son. I never meant for you two to end up like this though. Balls."

"It's ok. We'll be fine. Betty Ford in there will be up and about by tomorrow." Dean smirked. "You know Sam. He won't stay down one moment longer than he has to. There's a case needs doing, Bobby."

"Alright." Bobby turned away. "But I'm gonna be checkin' on you boys. You miss my calls again and I'm bringin' the damn cavalry next time."

"We miss your call again, you'll need to." Dean said softly and went around to slide behind the wheel. He watched while Bobby got in his truck and pulled away, waved as he turned and passed them on his way back home. "Ok, Sammy. Let's see if we can get to Charleston without any more excitement."

"Hey…hey Dean?" Sam was still buzzing around the roof somewhere. He tried to reign in his thoughts but they kept slipping away from him and as he felt the myriad of aches in his body make themselves known, he wasn't sure he minded. "Dean?"

"What Sammy?" Dean asked, checking the rearview and seeing his little brother curled against the seat, head tilted back and eyes closed, shadowed with exhaustion.

Sam snickered. "Are we there yet?"

"Oh you little…" Dean growled and sped up. "Gonna put you back in the damn box."

"Huh?"

"Nothin', Sammy." Dean said sweetly. "Shut up, Sammy."

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They reached Charleston as the sun was setting. Any other day and Dean might have appreciated the drive in. The highway followed the curves of the mountains. The cold of Fall hadn't found this valley yet. Dean rolled the window down and felt warm air rush inside the car. Green trees lined the rising mountain on his left while to the right and below, the city of Charleston spread out in the cradle of the mountains. In its center, winking in the last light of day, was the gold covered dome of the State House. It was breathtaking. None of that really registered for him though. He'd stopped an hour ago for gas and found Sam shivering in the backseat with fever. The beatings and the drug were taking their toll and he wanted nothing now but a Motel to roll Sam into and get him better and hell if he was going to tell Bobby about it. The old guy would probably hop right back in his truck and come out after them if he did.

"Almost there, buddy." Dean called in to the backseat but Sam was out again, asleep with his face pressed into the backseat and the edge of Dean's jacket pulled up over his head. He smirked, remembering how many times he'd seen his little brother sleep like that as a kid. He sobered then, wondering what had happened to that innocent kid, when he'd started to become someone else. Oh right. He went to Hell and left him on his own. "Sorry, Sammy." He whispered and focused on the road again.

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Sam tossed in the bed, moaning in his fevered sleep. "Hey, Sam. Sammy." Dean dropped a hand on his shoulder and draped a wet cloth over his brothers' forehead with the other. "It's ok. You're safe."

Dean had found a motel on the outskirts of the city, backed up against the foot of one of the mountains. It actually wasn't that bad. Sea green walls and carpets made it feel warm with the heavy, brown curtains and what he swore were handmade quilts on the beds. The little TV in the corner droned on softly with the local news as he sat next to Sam and tried to quiet him. The drug had finally worn off. Sam was sober again but the fever that had come in its wake left him delirious.

"Dammit, Sam. You don't get through this soon and I'm gonna have to call Bobby." Dean was ready to drop. It had been a full day since they arrived and almost twice that since he'd had any real sleep. He was woozy with exhaustion and twitchy with nerves. Every time he closed his eyes, rather than blissful darkness, he saw the Pit. The memories were assailing him worse than normal and testing even his legendary ability to internalize pain.

The images he saw, the faces…he looked again to the bottle of whiskey on the table and swallowed against how badly he wanted to empty it and find sleep. Sam needed him. As if sensing something, Sam suddenly reached out and grasped his arm.

"Dean." Sam said, voice husky with fever. "Dean, it's ok." Sam refused to let his brother pry his hand loose. He'd opened his eyes and seen the lost, hopeless look on Dean's face and his heart had fractured. That was his fault. Oh Dean had told him he didn't remember anything but Sam didn't believe it. He remembered something and that something was eating at him.

"Hey, you need to sleep, Sammy." Dean managed to get his arm free and tucked Sam's arm back under the blanket. "Don't worry about me. I'm fine." Sam shook his head but his eyes fell closed again anyway as Dean replaced the cold towel on his head.

Dean let his head fall forward as Sam's breathing evened out into sleep again and tried not to see the things, the horrors his brain insisted on thrusting at him. The things he had done…he didn't know if he'd ever sleep without help again and looked to the whiskey bottle longingly once more before resolutely turning away. Not today.

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To be continued…


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader Prompts in this chapter: A mine, ghostly miners, ghost or possessed clown, Stoic but sick/sore Sam embarrassed about losing control while drugged and some big bro caring moments. :D

_**CHAPTER 4** _

Sam woke in a fog. His head felt too big, his arms and legs felt as though he'd been doing pushups for a month and his head was beating a tattoo behind his eyes. He groaned and then bolted up onto his elbows as memory came back. "Shit." He hissed and looked around, startled to find himself in a motel room. He closed his eyes, rubbing trembling fingers between his eyes and frowned as everything came back. Sam looked around and found Dean sprawled on his side on the bed next to him, arms and legs hanging off the edge and exhaustion showing clearly in his sleeping face.

A blush crept up Sam's neck, remembering how he'd behaved when Dean had saved him from the damn box. Needing to be saved in the first place was making him twitch. He crawled slowly, quietly from his bed and padded on bare feet to the bathroom, shutting the door and leaned against it, eyes closed. He hated himself a little for showing that much weakness in front of Dean. He'd spent four months hunting every damn thing he could find on his own and now; Dean's back and suddenly he's the helpless little brother again.

"Dammit." Sam growled and took a good look at himself in the mirror. He looked like crap. Dean looked worse. He'd made his big brother go two days without sleep because he couldn't take care of himself. "Gotta do better, Winchester." Sam told himself and turned the shower on. He hoped the noise wouldn't wake Dean but he needed to be clean. He was covered in mud, blood, bruises and the remnants of what had to have been a good fever. He groaned as the hot water hit his chest and turned to let it beat on his back for a while. He indulged himself, for just a moment, wishing Ruby was there to massage the ache out of his back and smiled sadly. _There_ was one facet of his life without Dean that his brother was likely never going to understand.

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"Hey Jerry!" Brian shouted as he plodded up the dirt road beside Cabin Creek. "Don't forget the damn beer!"

"Aw come carry it your damn self!" Jerry called back with a laugh. He pulled the case out of the back of the dented, dirty pick-up, flicked on his flashlight and followed the road after Brian. "You could have waited for me, dumbass!" He wasn't as amused about sneaking up on Carnies as Brian was. The guy had a serious love for causing trouble and why they wanted to camp this far outside of town was beyond him.

"Ha!" Brian's voice floated back to him.

A moment later Jerry heard a splash and a string of cussing and laughed. "Serves ya right!" He trod through the darkness, following the beam of his light. "Brian? You need me to call yer mom and get ya a blankie?" He snickered, waiting for the insults to start and frowned when they didn't. "Dammit, Bri stop screwin' around." Jerry picked up his pace and jogged down the track to the river's edge. He shined his light up where he knew Brian had been and saw nothing. "Man, come on. It's too damn dark for this crap." He heard a rustle in the bushes to his left and hefted the case of beer. "If you jump out at me I'm beanin' your ass with this case." Jerry warned and turned his flashlight on the trees and scrub brush. "Bri?"

He felt a cold hand on his shoulder and turned. Jerry gave a startled cry and fell back at the ghostly figure standing behind him. "HOLY CRAP!" He fell to the ground, flashlight spinning away into the night as an ethereal hand dove into his chest and he screamed as he felt his heart being crushed.

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Dean opened his eyes, irritated awake by a constant tapping sound. He looked up and groaned seeing Sam sitting up at the table in their room, tapping away at his laptop. Dean rolled carefully to his side and sat up.

"You oughta be in bed, Sammy." Dean told him and got a snort in return.

"I'm fine, Dean." Sam smiled at him over the laptop. "You needed sleep though. You know you took a steering wheel to the chest right?" Sam glared at him. "You just gonna neglect to do anything about that?"

Dean snorted. "Dude it's a bruise."

"Across the whole of your chest. I looked." Sam sat back and smiled at the disgusted look on his brothers' face. "Painkillers on the nightstand. Take them."

Dean looked over and saw two pills next to a bottle of water. "Naw don't need 'em." He stood and then sat immediately back down. "Okay, ow."

"Uh huh." Sam pointed and Dean flicked a finger at him before grabbing the pills and the water. "You aint exactly a picture of bruise free living yourself, you know. How are you even vertical?"

"It's not that bad now." Sam told him and went back to his research. It was actually far worse than he was making out, the aching in his back and chest threatening to hunch him over but he swallowed it back. He'd taken a look under Dean's shirt when he got out of the shower and couldn't believe he'd forced his brother to take care of him like a child when he was so hurt himself. Now all he had to do was keep Dean preoccupied enough to not actually test him. "I've been researching the case while you were sleeping."

Dean sucked it up and stood, succeeding this time and went to sit across from Sam who pushed a tall cup of coffee at him with a smile. "Ok, not only are you up and walkin' around but you went and got coffee?" Dean took a grateful sip and sighed. "Guess you are better than I thought you were so, what'd you dig up?"

Sam smiled; grateful he'd distracted him and turned the laptop to face him. "So outside town there's a bunch of abandoned mines. No big deal now but back in the day the whole area was the site of a massacre. Union Miners fighting the Mine Operators." Sam leaned back, trying to ignore the twinge across his back. "It was a mess. Over fifty official dead and no one seems to know how many unofficial in the camps and mines while it was all going on."

"Oh well that's just…awesome." Dean rolled his eyes. "So our confused M.O. is probably because we're dealing with fifty or more pissed off spooks? This just gets better and better."

"Gets better. Last night they found two more victims." Sam frowned and looked up to the ceiling for patience. "Apparently, there's a carnival camped up there and they were just outside the camp."

"Carnival?" Dean's eyebrows rose and he didn't quite hide the smirk. "So, Carnies….clowns."

"Bite me." Sam said. He stood and made a show of gathering papers to hide the fact he needed to lean on the table to straighten up. "We should go up there and have a look. You up for it?" Sam gestured at Dean's chest and his brother gave him a disbelieving look.

"I should be asking you that, man. I'm not the one who spent several hours tied up in a damn box and drugged to hell and back." Dean stood and slapped a hand out to Sam's forehead before he could stop him. "You're warm." Sam batted his hand away.

"Dean, it's like eighty in here. Of course I'm warm." Sam laughed it off and moved away. "Go shower. I'll see about getting directions up there."

Dean narrowed his eyes, not convinced but went to shower, trusting his brother not to be stupid about being too hurt for the hunt. "Find me a donut! I'm starving!"

Sam snorted a laugh and let out a relieved breath when Dean shut the bathroom door. "Why did it have to be clowns?" He said softly to himself and went to raid the Motel office for a map.

_**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-** _

There was a light fog hanging in the low valley as they drove toward the site of the most recent killings. Dean drove slowly down the road that was little more than a wide dirt track. The Motel owner had no problem giving Sam directions to Cabin Creek and then had creepily wished him luck on his way in a sotto voice. Clearly the man was used to making tourists nervous.

"Mah baby does not need this crap in her undercarriage." Dean growled as red dirt pelted the underside of the car.

"Dude only you could make that sentence sound dirty." Sam chuckled.

"Hey she doesn't like that stuff under her skirt." Dean groused and came to a grateful stop at an orange safety barrier at the end of the road. Beyond they could see Cabin Creek churning happily along in the muted morning light. "Come on, Tanto."

"You are so not the Lone Ranger." Sam groaned. The groan led to a cough as his throat tickled, scratchy and sore. Thankfully, Dean had already gotten out and didn't notice. He cleared his throat and took a hasty swig from his water bottle before getting carefully out. Sam shut the door and turned in time to catch the bag Dean tossed to him with a grunt.

"Head's up." Dean grabbed his own bag and closed the trunk. "Figure we'll check out the crime scene and then head up and see if Pennywise has anything to say." He grinned at his little brother's pained look. "Relax dude. I won't let the clowns get you."

"Such a jerk." Sam muttered and shouldered the bag. He turned away so Dean wouldn't see the effort it cost him and followed Dean's long-legged stride past the barrier and toward the river. He slipped the EMF meter out of his pocket and switched it on. "Getting some faint readings here." He called to Dean. "Whatever was here, it's moved on."

"Well it was damn messy." Dean pointed to a dented case of beer covered in blood splatter beside a man sized indent in the muddy earth. "Paper said the other guy was bashed in the head and dragged into the river. Where's the nearest mine?"

"Uh." Sam pulled the map out of his jacket pocket. "Up that ridge there." He pointed to a rise ahead of them. "The…carnival's camped in front of the mine entrance."

Dean gave him a cheerful grin. "Let's go meet the locals." He strode away with a chuckle, hearing Sam huff along behind him. His brother's phobia of clowns was something he just couldn't help but find humor in. He trudged up the muddy track, huffing for air by the time he reached the top of the ridge and rubbed a hand over his bruised chest. "Ow." He looked down in the small valley and forgot about the ache. "Hey, Sammy you're gonna wanna see this."

Sam made himself get up from where he'd stumbled before Dean could see him. His entire body was screaming at him each time he moved. His right shoulder was a burning, nagging ache and he thought maybe it was partially dislocated from being trussed up in the box. He sighed and climbed up to his brother. It'd sort itself out in time. "What…" Sam trailed off in surprise. Below them was a circle of colorful wagons and vans, pennants flying, tents ruffling in the mountain breeze and not a soul in sight.

"Ok, there's something hinkey going on here." Dean pulled his shotgun from his bag and nodded at Sam to do the same. From their vantage, Dean could see a Mine entrance on the other side of the camp; a dark opening braced in wood and a barricade tossed roughly to the side. There should have been dozens of Carnies wandering the camp. They neared and could smell fires burning untended with pots hanging over them, laundry flapping on a line and some had drifted from their pins to flap in the trees surrounding the clearing. "I don't like this."

"Yeah. What the hell happened here?" Sam looked down and nudged Dean's shoulder, pointing. There was a clear, well-traveled area in the center covered in footprints and beyond, a wide trail of many sized prints all leading the same place; the Mine. "This can't be good."

"Got your flashlight?" Dean pulled his own mag-light from his pocket and Sam nodded. "Ok, maybe they just decided to take a tour." He snorted at the idea and ducked under the lintel of the entrance with Sam at his side, shotguns ready.

"How's a whole troupe of Carnies just cut and run?" Sam asked softly, shining his light. "I mean these guys are usually tough as nails."

"Shit." Dean strode ahead and knelt. "Something was chasing them." He shined his light on the body at his feet. Face down and pointing further into the Mine; the back of his suit jacket was shredded and wet with his blood. Dean stood, his nerves on edge and nodded at Sam.

Sam pulled the EMF back out and flipped it on. Immediately the needle climbed into the red and buried itself before he turned it off and put it away. "Yeah, it's hot in here."

Dean led, Sam watching his back and followed the turning passage. He stepped carefully over mine rails half buried in dirt with disuse and gestured to another body laid out between them. Twenty feet further and another unfortunate soul waited them. She laid face up, beard making Dean's mouth twitch even though she had met a sticky end. He went carefully around her and whipped about when Sam cried out.

"Sammy?" Dean saw his brother go down and looked around for any attacker.

Sam groaned and pushed slowly to his knees. "Tripped." He said shortly, embarrassment coloring his face. "Sorry."

"Geez, Sam, give me a heart…" Dean grunted when something white and red streaked out of a nearby tunnel and body slammed him into a wall. The impact made his head ring and he slid to the ground, stunned as a clown rose up menacingly above him.

"Dean!" Sam shouted. He looked up into the crazily painted face of a clown and froze. Floppy feet, suspenders, too large pants and afro red wig; the clown stalked to Sam, arms reaching. "Holy crap." Sam shook himself, grabbed his gun from the dirt and fired into its chest. He'd expected it to dissolve as ghosts normally did but instead there was a very human cry and the clown dropped to the ground in a boneless heap. A dark mist rose from the body and flew away into a wall. Sam took a deep, steadying breath and then crawled over to his brother.

"Dean? You ok?" Sam slipped a hand behind Dean's head and came away with a few drops of blood.

"Huh? Yeah." Dean shook his head, trying to banish the cobwebs and looked over at the colorful body on the ground a few feet away. "Damn ghost possessed a freakin clown?"

"Guess that's why they took off into the Mine." Sam said, voice shaking a little as he looked back. "Suppose I should see if he's still alive."

Dean snorted and used Sam's arm to pull himself up. "I got this." He felt Sam trembling beneath his hand and shook his head. "Dude you gotta get over this."

Sam nodded and said nothing. Dean used his right arm to pull himself up and the resulting pain stole his breath. Yup, Sam thought to himself, dislocated. Definitely. He concentrated on slowing his breathing and transferred his shotgun to his left hand before turning to Dean. "How is he?"

"He's alive." Dean nodded and stood. "Don't think he's waking up anytime soon though. Come on, there's gotta be someone else left alive in here."

Sam sighed, he could have used five minutes to recoup but then, sitting around with a clown made him twitch. He followed his brother and tried several times to rotate his shoulder all the way back in.

"Dude, button it back there." Dean said softly, hearing his brother grunt. He motioned ahead of them; he could hear something shuffling. He raised the shotgun and light, peering into the gloom and cussed when two midget clowns sprinted out of the darkness. "Oh come ON!" Dean shouted. He hit the first in the chest with the rock salt and heard the report as his brother hit the second. Both diminutive clowns lay on their backs and as before, dark mist rose from their bodies and vanished into the walls.

Sam shook his head. "Ok, midget clowns. That's just…wrong."

Dean snorted a laugh, checking both and finding them alive. He looked up to Sam's pale face and smirked. "You need to wait outside while I take care of the evil, possessed clowns, Sammy?"

"Bite me, Dean." Sam gave him a bitch face and took the lead, leaving his brother to follow. "I can handle the damn clowns."

"Not me. I'm gonna have nightmares for a month." Dean said on a short laugh. His chest still felt tight from its impact with the steering wheel. He rotated his shoulders, shrugging off the discomfort and followed close behind Sam. In the quiet and with his flashlight shining on Sam's back, he narrowed his eyes. He was limping slightly, shoulders hunched. His little brother was not as well as he was making out. As if to prove the point, Sam tripped again and stumbled into the wall.

"Dammit!" Sam ground out under his breath.

"Hey, Sammy." Dean stepped up beside him, concerned.

"I'm good." Sam said through clenched teeth.

"The hell you are." Dean took his left arm and pulled him upright. "Dude what the hell? Why'd you come out here this hurt?"

"Dean, I'm fine." Sam said sternly and took his own weight to prove it. "Just jarred my shoulder is all."

"We're going." Dean started to tug him and Sam wiggled free.

"No way, Dean. There could still be people alive in there." Sam argued and stepped away. "We're not leaving them."

"Dammit, Sammy." He shook his head and followed his obstinate brother, knowing he was full of crap. Sam coughed ahead of him, muffling it in his shoulder and Dean growled. He wondered when Sam had forgotten going on a Hunt wounded made you a liability. Dean rolled his own shoulders, easing the ache across his chest and smiled ruefully; he wasn't exactly living up to that rule himself.

"Dean." Sam called. "I hear voices up ahead. Come on."

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To be continued…


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader Prompts in this chapter: Tough/manning up through the pain Sam, awesome comforting big brother Dean, Deafened Sam, concussed and puking Sammy, despairing Sammy thinks Dean is dead, Dean to the rescue, 1 of the boys falling down a teensy-weensy mineshaft, boys get separated and Sam gets trapped somewhere with little/bad air, flashlights stop working and they're left in darkness.

_**CHAPTER 5** _

Dean caught up quickly with Sam and together they turned a corner into a large cavern. In the center, huddled around each other was a group of twenty or so people; all brightly dressed and terrified. Dean's brows went up when he saw the large circle of salt surrounding them.

"Hey!" Dean called and strode out to them, eyes searching the darkness around them and the small pool of light from their lanterns. "You ok?"

Several women whimpered and one of the largest men Dean had ever seen stood up and glared at him. "Back spirit!" The man bellowed in a stentorian voice and Dean smirked.

"Sorry, pal. Real boy here." To prove it, Dean stepped over the salt line into the circle and smiled. The air seemed to go out of the man and he nodded, relieved. "So who was smart enough to pour the circle?" Dean asked, gesturing behind him.

"Me." The large man stepped forward and held out a meaty hand. "I am Tiberiu; the Strong Man. In Romania, ve know such things as dis."

Dean chuckled. "Okay, Captain Kirk we're gonna get you all out of here." He dropped his bag to the ground and bent, pulling two canisters of salt out. "Ok ghosts for dummies…er…carnies." Dean grinned. "You salt 'em, they leave. Iron works too. You run into someone possessed by one, get the salt inside 'em. It'll kick the ghost out."

Most of the people in the circle had fearful looks but a few, like Tiberiu we're nodding calmly, taking in every word he said.

"Ileana." Tiberiu called and an older, grey haired woman came out of the center of the circle to stand beside him. "Ileana is gypsy." He said to Dean. "Always carries iron nails."

"Nice." Dean gave the old woman a smile. "Now…"

"Dean?" Sam called. "I think they're coming." He felt the temperature in the cavern plummet, his own breath misting out in front of him and turned quickly to look back the way they'd come, shotgun raised.

"Sammy! Get in the damn circle!" Dean yelled and made to go to him when the floor of the cavern rumbled. "Sam!" Dean shouted as the floor caved under his brother and he fell from sight with a cry. Tiberiu's arms wrapped around him, preventing him from running and following Sam down. "Let me go dammit!"

"You cannot…help…if ghosts get you!" Tiberiu said, straining to hold the smaller man. "You vill vait!"

The rumbling subsided. Three dark clouds streaked into the cavern, spinning around the periphery of the circle before vanishing into the walls once more. Dean jerked free of the Romanian's grasp and ran to the edge of the hole. "Sammy!" He shined his flashlight inside but ten feet or so down, it turned out of sight. "SAM!"

"Come, friends." Tiberiu took one of the salt canisters and handed the other to another man. "Ve vill leave this place as friend here has told us." He waved them on, the motley group slowly leaving the safety of the circle. The Strong man knelt beside Dean and put a gentle hand on his back. "I vill stay and help you find him."

"No." Dean shook his head and stood, swallowing the rage at the ghosts back. "Get your people out of here. Go into town and stay the hell away from Mines next time." Dean picked up his brothers shotgun from where it had fallen beside the hole.

Tiberiu nodded solemnly and stood. "Take care, my friend." He said and walked away.

"Ok you sons of bitches." Dean growled and headed deeper into the cave where the tunnel began to angle down. "Now you've pissed me off."

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Sam felt the floor going beneath him and could do nothing to stop it. He heard Dean shouting his name but even that was lost to him as he fell. The fall was not as long as he expected. He grunted with the impact against solid stone, allowing his legs to collapse and felt himself tumble sideways. His head cracked hard against rock as he fell and rolled, pulled down and down through the stone chute. Sam felt the air around him change from close to open as he was spewed out into another cavern. His flash light came with him, light spinning wildly as he tried to get his eyes to focus.

"Dean." Sam tried to call but wasn't sure if he'd even said it aloud past the ringing in his ears and the sulfurous smell burning his nose and lungs. His head was splitting, spinning and threatening to make him hurl. He rolled slowly to his side, reaching a shaking arm out to the flashlight a few feet away and then he jerked to his knees.

"DEAN!" Sam scrambled forward and fell against the body of his brother. "No. No, no, no." He took Dean's face in his hands and felt all the air whoosh out of his lungs. His big brother was already cold, eyes staring blindly up. "Oh god, no, no Dean no. You can't be…you can't be." Sam rested his head against Dean's chest and felt tears burning his face at the lack of a heartbeat. His head was still ringing, the sound filled his ears and he could hear nothing past it. He didn't care. He didn't even care if the ghosts found him now.

His whole world narrowed down to the cold body beneath his clenching hands. He'd only just gotten Dean back. It wasn't fair. Sam gave an inarticulate cry he couldn't hear and clung to Dean, sobbing his loss, all the fight gone out of him.

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Dean fired another round of rock salt, dissipating the ghostly Miner that advanced on him with a grim smile. "SAM!" He yelled and waited, hearing nothing. He figured he was close now, somewhere beneath the cavern above. His internal compass wasn't letting him down, even in the dark confines of the mine. "Sammy!" He shouted again. "Dammit." He followed the tunnel as it twisted, stepping carefully between the ageing mine rails, ears alert for any sound that didn't belong.

He tilted his head, listening more keenly. He heard something ahead but wasn't sure what it was. He raised his shotgun and his flashlight and stalked toward it. As he got closer a sulfurous odor began to seep into the tunnel, burning his nose and Dean realized it was broken sobbing he was hearing; someone was crying and hard up ahead. "Hello?" He called but got no response. The sound was heartbreaking and he about jumped clear out of his skin when his own name was cried out in Sam's hopeless voice.

"Sammy!" Dean ran ahead, heart pounding with panic. Sam should never sound like that. "Sam!" He skidded to a stop in a small chamber, light falling on his little brother's heaving shoulders as he bent over…"What the hell? Sammy! That's not me!"

Sam saw the glare of a new light against his closed eyes and jerked his head up, turning to meet the threat. The light shone in his eyes, blinding him. He looked around for any weapon. All he had was the pistol at his back. Sam pulled it out and aimed the shaking muzzle at the light. "Back off!" He shouted. He put one hand to his head, groaning as the ringing continued in his ears, making his head spin. He wouldn't let it take him down, not now.

Dean was beyond confused. "Sammy it's me! What the hell, man?" His little brother was pointing a loaded gun at him and he couldn't help but flash back to that damn asylum only this time, he knew it _was_ loaded. Sam shook, wavered on his knees with his eyes wide and face wet. Dean lowered his shotgun and shone the light up into his own face even as he covered his mouth and nose against the stench in the little chamber. "Sam? Can you see me? Come on man, it's me. I swear. Air's bad in here." He watched Sam's eyes widen even further and he looked quickly between Dean and the duplicate lying next to him.

"Wha…" Sam stared down at his dead brother and back up at the very alive one who's lips were moving but he couldn't hear anything past the ringing. Alive Dean suddenly raised his shotgun and Sam saw the muzzle bounce as it was fired, felt pellets of rock salt spatter against his arms as the rounds hit the body beside him. It flickered in the light and disappeared. "Oh my god." Sam breathed and fell backward, trying to catch himself in shock. He looked up to Dean, the real Dean and let his gun fall. "Dean?"

"Yeah, tiger." Dean heaved a relieved breath and went quickly to him, kneeling in front of him. "Hey, you ok?" There was blood trickling from Sam's temple and his face was far too pale. "Sammy? We gotta get you outta here. You've been breathing this crap too long." Stories of miners trapped and suffocated by bad air surfaced in Dean's mind and he knew they needed to get away and fast.

Sam stared at him and then lurched forward, wrapping Dean in a strangling hug as uneven breaths made him gasp. "Dean. I thought…" Sam couldn't finish the sentence. It was too much, too painful; his chest burning with each breath. He felt Dena's arms circle his shoulders, one hand patting comfortingly at his back.

"It's ok, Sammy. I get it." Dean said and he did. If it had been him, well, it was him once and he hadn't taken it much better. "Hey, breathe Sam." Dean felt him near hyperventilating and pushed him back so he could see his face. "Sammy?" The air was getting to him.

"Dean. Dean I can't…" Sam gave his head a shake which turned out to be a bad idea as it drove the nausea to a new level and he lurched to the side, throwing up what little he'd eaten that day into the dirt.

"Ok, take it easy." Dean held on to him as he heaved and pulled Sam back when he'd finished. "Hey, you ok?"

Sam watched Dean's lips move and tried hard not to panic. "Dean. I can't hear you." He saw Dean's eyes widen in shock and knew at least his own voice must be working.

Dean took Sam's face in his hands and turned his head. There were small trickles of blood coming from each of Sam's ears. He turned his brothers' face back and smiled, trying for reassuring. "It's ok. You're gonna be fine. You just hit your head and the air sucks down here." He spoke slowly, hoping Sam could at least read some of it on his lips. "Let's get you out of here, ok?"

Sam followed some of what he was saying and nodded. The incessant ringing was turning his stomach, making his eyes cross; his lungs hurt with each labored breath and all he wanted to do was lay down but he nodded. Out. He'd read that one clearly. He let Dean pull him to his feet and smiled when his big brother pushed his shotgun into his hand.

Dean could feel Sam straining for each breath beneath his arm. His little brothers' eyes were watering and it wasn't all tears. Hell, his own eyes were burning and he tried to limit himself to shallow breaths as he lugged him out of the chamber and into the tunnel. He just needed to get him twenty feet or so further and the air would be good again. He kept talking, hoping Sam could hear something. Dean got them fifty feet or so further down the tunnel until he could only smell clean, if musty air and stopped.

Sam felt his knees going as soon as Dean lurched them to a stop and was grateful for Dean's arms slowing his descent to the ground. Dean propped him against the rough wall and Sam kept his hands on his brother's arms; needing the tactile contact still to reassure himself he was there and alive.

"Yeah, Sammy I'm still here." Dean smirked, seeing the thought in his glazed, blue-green eyes. "You still deaf?"

Sam shook his head slowly. "It's…coming back." He took a deep breath, relishing the air now the smell of sulfur was gone and gagged on a cough. He doubled over, feeling Dean hold him securely.

"Shit! Breathe, Sam. Just breathe through it." Dean started coughing himself, no doubt their lungs getting rid of whatever crap they'd inhaled. Sam was barking painfully and as if that weren't bad enough, it started him heaving again as well. "Geez you just can't catch a break kid." Dean said and held him until the heaves eased up. Sam's head dropped to his shoulder with a thump. "Sam? Sammy?" Dean got a hand to his neck, feeling the pulse beating there and tipped his brother's head back. He was out.

"Great." Dean rested his forehead in Sam's hair for just a moment. "Ok, sasquatch. This is no place to take a nap." He tapped lightly on Sam's cheeks, not liking the warmth he felt growing there. "Sam! Wake up!" Sam's lids flickered and Dean tapped his cheek harder, smiling when he was rewarded and his eyes opened all the way.

"M'here." Sam said hoarsely and coughed, trying to clear his throat.

"Hey, let's not do that again." Dean dropped his bag on the floor and dug through for the water bottle. He twisted the cap off and got it to Sam's mouth. Sam took the bottle and gulped only to have it pulled away. "Small sips, Sammy." Dean admonished, not wanting him to choke again and this time Sam took more careful swallows. "Better?" Dean asked when Sam let go.

Sam nodded. "Yeah." He let his head fall forward again to Dean's shoulder. He was exhausted. "Chest hurts. Head." Sam gave a weak chuckle. "Hell, everything h…hurts."

"I know, buddy." Dean put the bottle away and shouldered his bag again. "Ok, up we go. You ready?"

Sam nodded and got shakily to his feet with Dean's help. He swayed dangerously but managed to lock his knees and stay standing. "Ok."

Dean got a more secure grip around his waist and got them moving slowly again. The beam of Dean's flashlight strobed ahead of them and he growled. "Come on." He gave it a shake, the light steadying. They took two more steps and the flashlight blinked out. "Son of a bitch!" Dean shook it, turned it on and off to no effect. "Great." He dropped it and pulled Sam's flashlight from his back pocket. He clicked it on and a moment later it clicked itself off. "Man I HATE ghosts!" He shouted.

"Dean." Sam leaned more heavily on him as the darkness swallowed everything. "Torch. In my bag."

"Sorry, Sammy but your bag must be stuck in the hole you fell down somewhere." Dean told him and grunted as he took more of his brother's weight. "Wasn't with you when I found you."

"Shit." Sam said softly. He let his head fall forward. He hadn't lied; everything hurt. His chest was still burning, his head pounding fit to split it open and he was swallowing convulsively to hold back another wave of nausea. He needed to lie down and that just wasn't going to happen any time soon.

"Hey, stay with me, buddy." Dean hitched Sam's arm higher across his shoulders when he started to sag. "Keep the gun handy. You feel the temp drop, just shoot ok? I'm gonna try and walk us out of here."

"In the dark?" Sam asked, surprised.

"Think I can feel the right way out. Just hang on." Dean stretched the hand with the shotgun out until he felt the wall and used it as a guide, hobbling them along painfully slow in the absolute blackness of the Mine. Dean kept the mental map he'd made as he searched for Sam in his head but still, he had the feeling they were heading off course. Their shuffling steps echoed eerily in the blackness and Sam's harsh breaths weren't helping his nerves. Kid needed to lay down and soon, preferably in a hospital with a concussion so bad it had made his ears bleed.

"D…Dean." Sam managed as his legs went to jello once more and he started a slow slide to the ground he couldn't stop.

"No, no, no come on Sam." Dean felt Sam slipping and guided him to the ground as he collapsed.

"Sorry." Sam said softly.

Dean felt his little brother go limp against him. "Shit. Sammy." Dean settled him against the wall and sat next to him, pulling him into his shoulder. "Ok, rest break but you gotta wake up soon, buddy." His eyes hurt as he tried to stare into the darkness and see something; anything that could help them.

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_To be continued…_


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader Prompts in this chapter: Dean unconscious and Sam takes a bullet meant for Dean while he's out, Sam disarms bad guy and drags Dean to safety, Tiberiu makes a return appearance, boys follow a ghost miner's headlamp, Dean has SammyCPR moment, some determined caring!dean

_**CHAPTER 6** _

Dean gave his brother another shake, slapping gently at his face. "Rise and shine, Sammy." The darkness was disorienting and Sam's wheezing breaths in the silence were not helping his calm. Sam shifted against him. "Hey, that's it, Sammy."

Sam heard his brothers' voice and fought to open his eyes but found only blackness. "Dean? Can't…see?" Confused, he scrabbled a hand out, slapping into Dean's leg and it was quickly grabbed.

"Hey, hey it's ok, buddy. Lights went out remember?" Dean spoke calmly. "We're in the Mine and you decided to take a little siesta, princess."

Sam nodded. "I remember. We…get out of here now?" His chest hurt, burned and he tried to take a deep breath. It set him coughing. Dean nudged him forward and clapped a hand to his back several times.

"Breathe, man. Just breathe." Dean waited anxiously until Sam finally took another real breath. "You sucked up some bad air back there. Gotta get you outta here." He lurched to his feet, keeping a hand on Sam's shoulder when the temperature in the tunnel began to noticeably drop. "Oh crap. Stay down, Sam. Incoming." Dean raised the shotgun in the pitch black and hoped the ghost would show itself somehow.

A faint light began to bob toward them from further down the tunnel as it became positively frigid. Dean aimed in the general direction, finger squeezing on the trigger and ready as soon as the ghost showed itself.

"Please." The word was soft and eased into the silence, making Dean's eyes widen in surprise. "Don't shoot."

"Dean." Sam fisted a hand in his brother's jeans at the knees and tugged. "Dean, wait."

"No way, Sammy. Not takin' the chance." Dean shook his head.

"Just wait…wait." Sam gasped and squinted as a shape began to form in the light.

"Can't stop the others." The spirit whispered, coalescing into a man dressed in Miner's coverall's, helmet and the light was the worklight mounted to his helmet. "Please." He held out an ethereal hand, placating.

Every nerve in Dean's body screamed to shoot but the insistent tug of Sam's hand on his leg made him pause. He groaned, hoping his little brother knew what he was doing. "Alright. What the hell do you want?"

"Get you out." The spirit said earnestly and gestured behind him. "You have to get out before…before the others find you."

"Why do you care?" Dean asked, not trusting the dead guy.

"It's my job." The man said and smiled. "Mine Foreman. You don't belong here." He took a step backwards. "You should get him up. Get him air when you get out."

"Air?" Sam asked, taking the hand Dean put down to him and pulling himself up slowly.

"Smelled like sulfurous methane." The Miner said and gave Dean a serious look. "Siezes the lungs. He needs to get out. Now. Follow me."

Dean felt fear grip his heart at the spirits words and he decided to listen. He got a firm grip around Sam's waist and hefted him up and into motion. "How you doin', Sammy?"

"Good." Sam focused on getting one foot in front of the other and used each step to time his breaths. "I'm good." Step, breathe in, step, breathe out. All the while they played ghostly pied piper, the Miner's light the only bastion in the close darkness around them. "D…Dean." Sam panted, he was losing his battle with breathing, he could feel it.

Dean felt Sam wobble in his grasp, heard his name whispered. "Sammy?" He tried to get a look at his face but Sam couldn't seem to pick his head up. He was fighting for air as Dean watched and his legs suddenly buckled. "Sam!" Dean lowered him to the floor and laid him out. The blue tint to Sam's lips put a hitch in his heart. He dropped his head to Sam's chest and growled as he heard the stuttering beat. "Come on, Sammy, you can fight this." He watched Sam suck in one breath, two and waited for him to take a third. It was seconds before he realized that third breath wasn't coming.

"Shit!" Dean glared up when the light began to recede, the spirit moving off. "Hey! Don't go!" The spirit didn't acknowledge him and drifted further away, taking the light with him. "Damn ghosts!" Dean shouted as the darkness swallowed them once more. "Ok, Sammy. It's ok. I got this." Dean felt for his brother's head and tilted it back. He bent over and blew two quick breaths for him then planted his fists on Sam's chest and started compressions, counting each out in a ragged voice in the pitch black. "Come on, three, four, Sammy please, six, seven…" He blew two more breaths and went back to Sam's chest, fighting to keep his straining heart beating and get him breathing again.

"Dammit Sammy don't you leave me like this!" Dean yelled and breathed again for his little brother. He moved his head to start the compressions again and paused as he heard a wheezing sound from his brother's face. "Sammy?" Dean put a hand to Sam's jaw, using it to guide him and leaned in close, listening. Sam took a breath on his own and Dean's head fell to Sam's chest with a thump.

"That's my boy." Dean breathed, relief making him weak. "Breathe Sammy." Beneath his ear he could hear the labored breaths and the sound of his heart pounding too fast but it was beating.

"My friends? Where are you?"

Dean's head jerked up at the voice he recognized as the Miner's ghostly light returned to the tunnel. Beyond the spirit came Tiberiu's too large form, hunched over beneath the low ceiling. "Tiberiu?" Dean said in disbelief as the Strong man strode past the ghost and knelt beside them.

"Coaie! Vhat have you gotten into here?" Tiberiu smiled at Dean and dropped a gentle hand to Sam's neck, frowning.

"What's… Coaie?"Dean let himself be momentarily distracted by the big man from his sickening fear for his brother.

"Ah, you vould say…balls?" Tiberiu looked over, a light blush to his face as Dean broke into a laugh.

"Oh you have got to meet Bobby." Dean looked up to the Miner, still hovering and gave him a short nod. "Hey, uh…thanks."

"It's my job." The Miner reiterated with a shrug. "We must go."

"Come, friend." Tiberiu raised Sam's shoulders from the ground and slid a hand beneath his knees; Sam's impressive height and build not seeming to daunt him at all.

"Dean Winchester." Dean smiled at him and clapped his shoulder. "That's my little brother, Sam."

"Ileana vill make him better." Tiberiu nodded in reassurance. "She is old gypsy, has many teas." The huge man chuckled. "And dey all taste like coaie."

_**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-** _

Sam groaned and opened his eyes to find Dean leaning so close he blurred in his vision. "Dean?" Sam licked dry lips. "Personal space, dude."

Dean chuckled and leaned back. "Hey, tiger. Nice of you to join us." He ran a hand over Sam's forehead, glad to feel the fever had almost left him but he was still warm. "How you feelin'?"

Sam looked around, confused to find himself in a bed piled high with pillows, blankets in every color of the rainbow and beads on the doorway he could see at the foot of the bed. "What? Dean, where?"

Dean laughed. "That geek brain of yours needs to wake up still, I think. Come on." He slid an arm beneath Sam's shoulders and lifted him so he was sitting. "How's your head?"

Sam ran a hand over it, finding a lump beneath his hair which probably explained the headache he had brewing. "Sore." He rubbed a hand over his chest and took an experimental deep breath, smiling when it didn't make him cough.

"Yeah, Ileana gave you some serious tea. Smelled like ass but man you turned about six shades of red, coughed yourself out and then started breathing better." Dean smirked for him but took a breath against the remembered panic that had caused him. "We're in Ileana's wagon outside town." He smiled and meant it this time. "Tiberiu carried you, princess."

Sam groaned. "Awesome." No chance his big brother wouldn't be teasing him about that for years to come.

"Like a little baby, Sammy. It was so sweet." Dean teased, holding his arms and rocking them until Sam growled at him. He was so involved making Sam miserable he didn't hear the old woman come in behind him and yelped when she cuffed the back of his head.

"Petulant boy, behave." Ileana scooted around Dean and sat beside Sam on the bed. "You are feeling vell, boy?" She asked and Sam nodded, chuckling at the disgusted expression on his brothers' face. She handed him a steaming mug. "You vill drink."

"Uh…" Sam sniffed at the dark liquid and felt his nose hairs burn. "I'm uh…"

"Drink." Ileana fixed him with a stern glare and Sam sighed. He tipped the mug to his lips and took a tentative swallow.

"Hey, this is pretty good." Sam said surprised and quickly swallowed the rest, handing the cup back. "Thanks."

Ileana put a hand to his cheek, tutting. "Still varm. Drink vill fix." She nodded and stood and stepped around Dean to the beaded door. "Vhen he can stand, you come eat."

"I can stand now." Sam said and tossed a leg over the edge of the bed. A feeling of warmth suddenly crawled back up his throat from the drink he'd swallowed. It grew and expanded, overwhelming him until he was lying back on the bed, one foot on the floor gasping for air like a landed fish. "Shit!" He said explosively.

Dean was laughing as he leaned over Sam and grasped his arm. "That old lady's tea is lethal man." He pulled his panting brother back up and set his hand against Sam's neck, grinning in surprise. "Damn! Fever's gone now."

Sam gasped a few more breaths. "Should bottle and…sell that stuff. Holy crap." He rolled his shoulders, eyes widening in surprise. "Dude, what the hell's in that stuff?" The pain he'd been living with for the last couple days had nearly vanished. The aches and cramps from his time in the box, even the more recent bumps and scrapes all seemed to have healed, or nearly so from the feel.

"Yeah she made me swig the stuff too." Dean gave him a lopsided smile and thumped his chest. "Not a bruise left from the steering wheel. Old gypsy knows her stuff. Come on. I'm hungry."

"You're always hungry." Sam laughed but let Dean pull him to his feet and followed him through the beaded door and outside.

"My friend!" Tiberiu's deep voice greeted them as they emerged and the strong man swept Sam up in a rib crushing grip before setting him down. "You are looking much better, little man!"

"Little!" Sam said in surprise while Dean burst into laughter. He shook his head and looked up to meet Tiberiu's eyes a full foot up. "Well, it's nice to not be the biggest freak in the room for a change."

Tiberiu gave another huge laugh and clapped a meaty hand to the shoulder of each Winchester, steering them to a table laden with food and surrounded by Carnies. "Eat. You must eat." They let themselves be shepherded to the table and handed plates quickly heaped with food.

"Can't eat like this every day." Dean said around a mouthful of the most amazing pork pie he'd ever tasted. "You'd die."

Tiberiu chuckled. "This is special occasion. Ve celebrate." Musicians appeared while more food was passed around. It was several hours and long past dark by the time Sam and Dean managed to extricate themselves from the party with Tiberiu's help. He piled them into a dented pickup that had seen better days and drove them back to the Impala.

"Thanks Tiberiu." Dean grinned and shook his hand warmly. "You've got our number. You ever need help again, you call."

"We'll be there with bells on." Sam said on a laugh as he was grabbed up in another crushing hug. He looked on smugly while Dean received the same treatment.

"Good hunting, my friends." Tiberiu waved and squeezed his considerable bulk back into the cab, backing down the dirt road and out of sight.

"Ok, Sammy. We need a plan of attack here." Dean said, sobering and looking up the ridge where he knew the Mine laid waiting. "We're not going back in until we figure out how to stop the seven friggin dwarves in there."

"Bobby?" Sam asked, walking around to the passenger door.

"Bobby." Dean nodded. "He's gonna be pissed I didn't call sooner anyway." He chuckled and slid in behind the wheel.

_**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-** _

"Well, I'm an idjit." Dean snapped his phone closed and said as his brother stepped out of the bathroom in a cloud of steam. "Actually we're both idjits and he'd wash his hands of us if he didn't care so damn much." They shared a laugh at their adoptive father's own special brand of caring. "Bobby's gonna do some research and call us back."

Sam yanked a clean t-shirt over his head and sat to put his sneakers on. "What do we do in the meantime?"

"Well, he had an idea about that." Dean smiled. "He said those spirits had to be stirred up by something or someone. We should ask around town, see why they decided to go Deliverance all of a sudden."

"So, Town Hall then. Best place to start." Sam stood and pulled on a flannel. "How much you wanna bet someone's got development plans up there on the ridge?"

"You up for a little B&E?" Dean smirked. It was nearing midnight and good a time as any to break into a government building. Sam nodded and grabbed his coat, tossing Dean's to him. "Let's roll."

_**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-** _

Charleston was fairly quiet at midnight on a Monday which was good for them as they parked the Impala a block away and walked in. The State House rose up above them in white marble, the golden dome at its top winking in the moonlight.

"What the hell are those?" Dean asked, pointing up at the carved busts in trios over each entrance to the building.

"Uh, Greek gods I think." Sam said and smirked at Dean. "Kinda creepy but cool."

"Ok, why Greek gods on a state house in redneck central? Seriously." Dean shook his head and turned to look out over the gardens behind them as Sam bent to pick the lock on their chosen door. It was well shadowed and mostly shielded from view by trees and bushes.

"Got it." Sam said and eased the door open, slipping inside ahead of Dean. "Records oughta be that way." Sam pointed, having checked the floor plans in the car on his laptop as they drove in. Together they went quickly and quietly through the building, senses alert for any guards that might be wandering the vaulted halls with them.

"Man this is some place." Dean said appreciatively when they reached a tall spiral stair with a stained glass dome at its top.

"One hell of an architect." Sam commented and pulled his eyes away, leading Dean down the stairs at the other side and into the basement of the building. They ducked quickly into a broom closet when they heard the distinctive clop of shoes coming toward them. A bored looking security guard went past, unaware of the eyes watching through the frosted window in the door, popping his gum as he vanished up the stairs.

They ducked out of the closet and quickly down the hall where Sam again easily picked the lock on the Records room door and let them in.

"I got the door." Dean said with a smirk as Sam rolled his eyes. "All yours research boy."

"Jerk." Sam muttered and clicked on his flashlight moving down the rows of file cabinets.

Half an hour later, with Dean humming Metallica under his breath Sam popped up from the seventh cabinet he'd dug through with a pleased grin. "Think I found it."

"About damn time." Dean grumped, bored with guard duty. "We get out of here now before we get busted?"

"Yup." Sam tucked the file into his jacket, flicked off his flashlight and joined Dean at the door. "Ready when you are."

Dean cracked the door and listened for the tell-tale popping of gum, a sound he'd become familiar with over the last half hour each time the guard made his rounds. He motioned to Sam and they crept out and back to the stairs. After two pulse-pounding sprints to avoid being sighted, they got out of the State House with none the wiser and jogged back to the Impala, sliding into the car with satisfied smiles.

Sam pulled out the file and spread it open in his lap. "So, it looks like there is a development plan in the works for that area. This guy uh…Andrew Moffat. He's gonna fill in the mine entrances, bulldoze, tract housing, the usual."

"Perfect. Let's build houses on top of the haunted Mine. Really?" Dean rolled his eyes in disgust. "May as well put up signs; film next Poltergeist movie here."

Sam chuckled. "Somehow I don't think that information was on the land deed." Sam pulled out the map from the glovebox and found Moffat's address, pointing it out to Dean. "So, you wanna drop by tonight or in the morning?"

"Oh let's go see if he's still up." Dean fired up the engine and roared away. "I got a bone to pick with this guy." He was less than amused about the damage they'd already taken because of the ghosts and Moffat's development plans.

_**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-** _

Andrew Moffat was certainly living the high life outside of Charleston. His house sprawled across at least an acre, surrounded by trees with an unassuming gravel drive leading up to it. Dean pulled off the drive behind a screen of trees and got out with Sam. "Around the back?"

Sam nodded. The more he'd thought about it on the drive over the more he became convinced that Moffat knew more than they gave him credit for. The developing had yet to start really making it odd for the spirits to be this deadly this soon. He checked the weight of his handgun at his back and saw Dean do the same as they crept around the darkened house to the rear. A large pool sparkled in the dark and moonlight as they crossed the stone patio to the rear doors. Sam touched Dean's elbow and pointed directly above the doors where a light glowed.

Dean nodded and reached for the door. It opened soundlessly, unlocked. He gave raised brows to Sam to say he didn't like it. Sam nodded in agreement and they eased into the silent house, guns drawn. They went silently, like the Hunter's they were, making no sound as they maneuvered through the house that looked more like a museum; Rosewood paneling and floors, display cases and sculptures. Sam nodded to the staircase as they rounded a corner and Dean took the lead.

At the top of the stairs, they could see light filtering out from under a door to their left. Dean's nerves were thrumming with tension. Something about the house just felt wrong to him and he could see, by the tight expression on his brother's face, that he felt the same. No sounds at all came from anywhere in the house, no matter how acutely Dean strained his ears and that alone was freaking him out; not even the ticking of a damn clock. He settled beside the door and reached a hand out to the knob, waiting for Sam to take the other side and then he turned and swung it open.

"Crap." Dean said with feeling. "The body of Andrew Moffat I presume." The man laid spread eagle in the center of the floor in front of an antique mahogany desk and he hadn't gone quietly. Bruises covered his face and a bullet hole sat dead center of his chest, glaring through the blood congealed in his shirt and in a large pool around the body.

"Ok this is not good." Sam muttered and stepped back out into the hall, gun leading to check for danger. "What the hell?"

"Man someone really wanted this guy dead." Dean said as he squatted beside the body and made a useless check for a pulse but, you just never knew. "You see anything?"

"No man. House is quiet." Sam stepped further into the hall, some sense telling him that something or someone was still there, somewhere. It was making his skin crawl. He spun in panic at the sound of wood sliding then his brother's grunt of pain and sprinted back through the door. Dean lay prone, unmoving, beside Moffat's body and standing in the now open French doors was a tall figure, masked and cloaked with gun pointed menacingly at Dean's chest.

"No!" Sam shouted and ran, putting himself between his brother and the gun at the same moment he fired; so did the mystery man. Both guns fired together. Sam felt hot lead tear into his left side, throwing him backwards even as he watched the gunman take the hit from his own weapon and stumble backwards before falling from view.

Sam lay unmoving staring at the ceiling for a moment, the pain burning in his side taking the whole of his focus even over breathing. Finally he managed to gasp in a breath and then another and rolled to his side, every twinge to his stomach an agony. He groaned and forced himself to his feet. First he needed to make sure they were safe. He staggered to the desk, using it to prop himself up and skirted around it until he could see out the doors to the small balcony. A puddle of blood glistened in the moonlight and he took three, woozy steps to the railing outside. Below, floating in an ever widening circle of red in the pool, was the gunman. Sam let out a breath and went back inside, dropping heavily beside his brother.

"Dean?" Sam checked at his neck and sobbed in a breath when he found a pulse. He rolled Dean's face toward him, grimacing at the welt above is left eye and the blood flowing freely from it. "Dean. Wake up." Sam tapped his face. When that got no response, he rubbed his knuckles firmly into his brother's sternum. Usually that was painful enough to wake anyone but Dean didn't even moan. He was well and truly out. "Dammit. Gotta get you outta here."

Sam dropped his head and breathed hard against the urge to just lie down and pass out; they couldn't afford it. Sooner or later there'd be police and too many questions to answer. He tucked away his gun, grabbed Dean's and shoved that into his jacket. He gave a cursory look to his own wound and sighed. It was low on his left side and, groaning with the pain, he found no exit wound in the back. The bullet was still in there. "Wonderful." He moaned and then shook his head. Time to fall down later. Sam slowly got Dean's shoulders off the floor and with an effort that left him weak and panting, got his brother up over his shoulder in a fireman's carry. "Get to the car." Sam told himself. "Get to the car." He kept muttering that to himself over and over as he navigated the stairs, each step threatening to send him to his knees with pain.

An age later, or so it seemed to him, Sam realized he'd reached the Impala. It took several frustrating tries to get the passenger door open and getting Dean inside was almost more than he could handle. He took a moment, with Dean's feet on the ground to just breathe through the pain before bending to manhandle the long legs inside the car and shut the door.

"Son of a bitch." Sam groaned, his brother's favorite cuss and used the hood to get him around to the driver's side. He slid behind the wheel and, one hand on his side to stem the bloodflow he could feel trickling down his leg, he dug the keys out of Dean's pocket and got the car started. The familiar rumble made him feel safer as he backed out onto the gravel drive and turned to the road.

Ten miles from Moffat's house, Sam admitted to himself that he couldn't drive any further. Blood loss was sending black spots crawling across his vision and he'd caught himself weaving into the wrong lane more than once. He pulled off the road and shut off the engine. "Ok, Dean. You really need to wake up now." He got out of the car, dizzy and stumbled around to the passenger door, opening it and dropping to his knees beside his brother in the seat.

"Dean." Sam shook him hard. "Dean, please." He let his head fall to Dean's shoulder, unable to hold it up anymore. "Dean you gotta wake up. Please."

Dean groaned, hearing his little brother's voice and something about it dragged and pulled him up from the peaceful floating he'd been doing. "S'mmy?" He mumbled. He turned his head and gasped at the pain that shot through his temple. "Son of a bitch." He cursed, the pain waking him up more fully. He pried his eyes open enough to see he was in his baby. "Ok that's good." Dean reached a hand up to the tacky wetness on the side of his head and moaned. "Not so good." He felt the growing bump and cut beneath his fingers and then felt a heavy weight on his right shoulder. He rolled his head carefully to the side and then fumbled to turn.

"Sammy!" Dean grabbed hold of his brother's limp shoulders. "Sam? Hey man, wake up!" He gave him a shake and got a moan in response. Dean hastily ran a hand over Sam's head but didn't feel any bumps or cuts. He looked down and gasped. The left side of Sam's shirt and jeans were red, sodden with his own blood. "Oh god, Sammy?"

"Unh…D'n." Sam's head bobbed twice, trying to lift and then fell again.

"No, no come on. Stay with me, tiger." Dean gave him a gentle shake and cupped a hand to the side of his face, tilting his head up. "Need you to open your eyes man. Sam!" He ordered and smiled when Sam complied, cracking blue-green eyes glazed with pain at him. "Dude, what the hell happened?"

Sam groaned, rocking back to take his own weight and ended leaning against the door. "Gunman. Don't know where he…where he came from. Knocked you cold." Sam's face darkened with anger. "Was about to gank you."

"So you took the damn bullet?" Dean asked in shock, guessing what had happened.

Sam chuckled and grimaced. "I did…try to shoot…him first." He made himself swallow the pain and get off his knees. "Slide over and…drive ok?"

"Soon as I get you taken care of." Dean got a leg out and stopped when Sam waved a bloody hand.

"Just…drive. I'm ok." Sam argued, attempting and failing to stand to prove it.

"Bull, Sammy." Dean got out and took a firm hold of Sam's shoulders, turning him and helping him drop into the seat.

"Really, it's not that bad." Sam tried a smile that only earned him a glower. "It can wait. We gotta get further away." He let his head drop to the seat back, exhausted.

"Sammy, dammit." Dean growled and fixed his stubborn little brother with a glare. "Would you just please let me take care of this?" He didn't wait for an answer. Dean reached over Sam, plucking the keys from the ignition and went to the trunk. "Stubborn jackass." He muttered as he opened it and dug out their medical kit. He was decidedly not fond of the new, grin and bear it Sam especially when he was covered in his own damn blood.

Dean went and climbed in the driver seat and turned to find Sam had passed out again, head rolled toward him and face disturbingly pale. "Sammy?" Dean gave him a shake and got only a moan. "Yeah, you're ok." He shook his head and lifted Sam's sodden shirt to see the damage. "At least it was a small caliber." He said, noting the small hole but grimaced when he found no exit wound. Dean put a pressure bandage over the wound, taping it in place and drew the seatbelt around Sam to keep him from sliding around while they drove. "Ok, sasquatch. One bullet removal special courtesy of your awesome big brother coming up."

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_To be continued…_


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader Prompts in this chapter: Impala breaks down on remote road so Dean has to do roadside surgery with no sutures, cauterizes an awake Sammy, no cell service; Dean in drag; return to Ileana's and reading of tea leaves; totally macho Winchester thank you from Dean to Sam for taking the bullet; Motel owner notices all the blood and calls police/ignores it/helps them?; Fevered delirious Sam thinks Dean is still in Hell; Boys get some well-deserved pie; Sam's fever spikes and Dean has to get him in the tub to lower it;

_**CHAPTER 7** _

Dean kept one worried eye on Sam as they drove, the Impala's headlights providing the only light on the dark mountain road. Even in the dim light he could tell Sam's pallor had deepened. He pushed harder on the gas pedal, needing to get back to their motel and fix this. Dean's eyes widened, incredulous when the engine knocked hard.

"What the…?" Dean gripped the wheel tighter as the engine knocked again, harder and kept knocking. "Oh no, no, no baby what are you doin?" Even as he pushed the gas to the floor, the car began to slow and the check engine light blinked on as if mocking him. The engine temperature climbed quickly into the red. "Son of a bitch!" Dean cursed and pulled off the road onto a service road that was more of a long, narrow clearing. He parked the car and turned off the engine, growling as the knocking waited an extra ten seconds to stop.

"Dean?" Sam's voice came weakly from the passenger seat. "Wha's goin' on?"

"Uh…engine trouble." Dean popped the hood and yanked a flashlight out of the glove box. "Just sit tight. Have us goin' again in a sec." He climbed out of the car with a murmured 'I hope' and lifted the hood. Steam poured out from the radiator which alone was bad enough to make him scream but in the beam of his light he could see a shredded fan belt in pieces; the rubber melting slowly on the too hot engine. "This is not happening." Dean ground out between his teeth and dropped his head in defeat. They weren't going anywhere until he could replace the fan belt.

"Great." He dropped the hood, giving a quick glance to Sam inside and pulled out his cell. "Oh come on!" He shouted and stopped himself throwing the phone away; there was no signal. "Ok, priorities Dean." He told himself, taking a deep breath and went around the passenger side, opening the door. "Hey, Sammy." He took his brother's face and rolled it to him. Glazed eyes blinked slowly at him. "We're not going anywhere for a bit. Lemme see how you're doing." Dean shone his flashlight down at Sam's waist and bit his bottom lip. The pressure bandage wasn't doing as well as he'd hoped at stopping the bleeding. He ran a hand over his face and sighed. "Ok, you just…get comfy for a bit ok?" Dean patted his brother's shoulder as he stood and went to the trunk.

Dean took a few deep breaths, trying to steal himself for what he knew he was going to have to do to keep his brother alive. "Dammit."

Sam, for the most part, felt as though he was floating and disconnected. He knew in a distant sort of way that his side should be killing him but all he felt was a dull ache. He was, however, cold. Tremors were beginning to course through him. He turned his head slowly and tried to focus on the dim form of his brother some twenty feet off. He blinked in surprise when a fire sprang to life and Dean was suddenly clearly outlined in the dancing light. Sam watched in a sort of daze as Dean strode back to the car and knelt beside him.

"Hey, Sammy, you with me?" Dean asked and uncoupled the seatbelt, sliding it out of the way.

"Kinda." Sam said; voice soft and gave a short nod.

"Ok. Got a nice place set up for you over by the fire." Dean smiled and pulled Sam's legs out, setting them on the ground. He draped Sam's arm over his shoulders and lifted him slowly from the car. Sam's face showed clear confusion at how careful and gentle Dean was being with him and Dean was still working up to telling him what was going to happen. He'd checked the first aid kit and was still mentally kicking himself; after the last time he'd stitched them both up, he had forgotten to restock the kit. There were no sutures. He led Sam over to his impromptu bonfire, frowning at the shivers coming from his brother and helped him down to the ground and the blanket he'd laid out.

Sam groaned, the movement burning pain to life and he was sure he could actually feel the bullet inside him moving. "Guh…Dean…stop." Sam asked but Dean just took all his weight and laid him out, stopping his head from falling to the ground with a thump.

"It's ok, Sammy. I've got you." Dean soothed and waited until he settled. "Ok. I have to get that bullet and close the wound or you're gonna bleed out."

"Ok." Sam gave a weak smile. "Stitch away."

Dean ducked his head. "Sam. We're out of sutures. We never restocked."

Sam frowned, trying to comprehend why Dean suddenly looked like a kicked puppy. He worked to make his fuzzy mind cooperate and connect the dots and finally, as the warmth from the fire heated one side of his face, he got it.

"Oh crap." Sam moaned and Dean nodded.

"No way around it, buddy. I have to cauterize it once I get the bullet out." Sam closed his eyes and gave a short nod. "Sorry, Sammy." Dean said softly and stepped over his brother, kneeling by his other side and the needed tools he'd set out from the first aid kit. He removed the pressure bandage, wincing with each hiss of pain from Sam and took a deep breath; steeling himself. He turned and pulled out the forceps he'd set in the edge of the fire. Dean poured antiseptic over them, making them hiss and cooling them before placing his hand on Sam's stomach, bracing his brother lest he move at the wrong moment.

"Stay still as you can for me, Sam." Dean took another deep breath and eased the forceps into the bullet wound. Sam's entire body tensed and Dean paused, waiting to see if he could take it. After a moment, Sam gasped in a breath and nodded. Dean basked in pride for the kid he'd raised and dug deeper into the wound. Sam was reduced to panting moans by the time Dean felt the metal scrape bullet and he got hold of it on his second try. "Almost there, Sammy." Dean pulled the forceps out slowly and let a heavy breath go when the bullet appeared; covered in blood but intact.

Blood was welling from the wound with more purpose now and Dean slapped a gauze pad over it, pressing hard to slow it; Sam couldn't afford to lose any more. "Shh, Sammy. Just hang on a bit longer." He took his bone handled knife from the grass and laid it so the blade sat in the fire to heat.

"Dean." Sam gasped. "I can't…I can't."

"Yes, you can Sam." Dean rose up so Sam could see his face and he smiled for him. "We're almost done and you can do this."

Sam watched his brother's fierce, green eyes and took strength from them as he always had. "Okay." He said, breathless and waited for the worst to come. The blood loss was working on him though and he felt nausea climbing up his throat. "D…Dean."

Dean looked up and recognized the look on his brother's face. "Shit." Quickly, he turned Sam on his side, supporting his head just as he began to heave. He kept his left hand pressed hard to the bullet wound but still felt fresh, warm blood begin to coat his fingers with every convulsion Sam endured. "Easy, buddy. Easy." Dean soothed and finally felt Sam go limp. He turned him and laid him back as gently as he could. "You good?"

Sam was anything but good and, in fact, wanted to run from the pain he knew was coming but for Dean, he nodded. "Yeah. Do it."

Dean promised himself to buy his little brother all the frou-frou girlie coffee he could drink for the next month as he pulled his now glowing blade from the fire. "On three, Sammy." He moved the sodden gauze and braced his hand on Sam's stomach again. "One…two…three." He felt Sam tense a second before he laid the flat tip of the blade over the hole. For a second, Sam strained to keep still but the burning pain simply overwhelmed him. He arched beneath Dean's hand, a cry escaping his lips and Dean struggled to force his brother's torso back to the ground, waiting for the heated metal to do its work. The smell of burning skin turned Dean's stomach and he gratefully yanked the knife away. He quickly poured antiseptic over the fresh burn, relieved to see it was closed and the bleeding stopped.

Sam was boneless beneath his hand and Dean scrambled to his head. "Sam? Sammy." He tapped his cheek lightly but got no response, not even a flicker. Dean let his head rest on Sam's forehead for a moment and waited for his own trembling to ease. "Ok, buddy. You rest for a minute." He said softly and sat back. He re-bandaged the now closed wound with shaking fingers and then pulled the second blanket he'd brought over top of Sam, tucking it in around him to keep him warm.

Dean jerked his head up; hope blossoming as he heard the distinctive sound of an engine on the road. "Don't go anywhere." He said to Sam's unconscious form and he sprinted past the Impala and back to the road. Headlights were coming up the lower road and Dean risked life and limb to stand on the pavement. He waved his arms as the car made the turn and squinted in the bright lights as it neared.

"Hey!" Dean shouted, waving and dodged to the side as the car neared and then slowed to a stop. Dean ran to the passenger side of the old truck. "Hey, thank you. Thank you." Dean panted and leaned in the window. The interior light flipped on and Dean reared back in surprise. "Holy crap!"

"My friend!" Tiberiu's grinning face met his and Dean looked upward for a moment, wondering if someone up there had a hand in this. "Vhat are you doing out here?"

"Me? What?" Dean shook his head and slapped his hands back on the door. "Sam's in trouble. I need a fanbelt, Tiberiu." He knew he wasn't making much sense and made himself take a deep breath as Tiberiu's eyes widened in surprise. "Sam's been shot and the car's done without a fanbelt."

"Alright, my friend." Tiberiu said and smiled. "I should have something." He backed his truck up and parked beside the Winchester's car. He shook his head sadly; these boys certainly seemed to find trouble more than most. He climbed out of his cramped seat and strode quickly to the bonfire, seeing the younger brother laid out before it. He knelt beside Sam, Dean at his back. "Ah little man. Vhat has happened to you now?"

"Fan belt?" Dean asked, impatient to get Sam somewhere safer. Tiberiu nodded. "You stay vith brother. I will fix. Keys?"

Dean waged an inner battle over letting someone else care for his baby but in the end, his concern for Sam won out and he watched Tiberiu walk away before kneeling beside Sam's head. "Hey, little brother." Dean tapped his cheek. "Need you to wake up for me now." Sam's skin was beaded in sweat and he could feel the beginnings of a fever under his hand. He'd expected it, having to cauterize the wound but it didn't make him feel any better. "Come on, Sammy. Up and at 'em."

Sam moaned and blinked tired eyes open. "Dean?"

"One and only. Hey, we got lucky." He patted Sam's shoulder. "Tiberiu just drove up. He's gonna get the Impala going and then we're getting you out of here."

"Tiberiu?" Sam asked in surprise and chuckled softly, ending in a coughing fit that left him gasping.

"Easy. Easy." Dean squeezed his shoulder, feeling the tremors rocking Sam and tugged the blanket higher. "Have you in a nice cozy bed in no time."

"Don' feel so good." Sam whispered, letting his eyes close on a grimace of pain. His side was still screaming and he was trying to figure out how he could be hot and cold at the same time.

"I know." Dean grinned and turned when the distinctive rumble of the Impala's engine fired up behind them. "Ok, Sammy." Dean quickly bundled up the first aid kit and ran to toss them in the front seat. "Tiberiu, you're a life saver…again." Dean clapped a thankful hand on the huge man's shoulder and opened the door to the backseat. "Help me get him in?"

"Of course." The two men went back and found Sam unconscious again. "I vill get legs." He bent and picked up Sam's long legs while Dean lifted his head and shoulders. Together they carried him to the Impala and maneuvered his lanky frame into the back seat. Dean balled his leather jacket under Sam's head for a pillow and shut the door. "Thanks, man."

"Is nothing." Tiberiu shrugged off the thanks. "Ve owe you much and more. He vill be alright?"

"Yeah." Dean nodded. "I'll take care of him."

Tiberiu nodded and grinned. "You go then. I put out fire. Go."

Dean nodded his thanks and quickly rounded the car, getting in and easing back out onto the road. He adjusted the mirror so he could see Sam's pale face and sped on the dark road toward their motel once more.

_**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-** _

"Dean! Dean!" Sam shouted and Dean was instantly at his side, pressing Sam's sweat soaked shoulders back into the bed.

"Sammy, take it easy." Dean felt years slipping off his life. Sam was burning with fever and had now added delirium to the list.

"Can't…can't save you." Sam sobbed, eyes closed tight as Dean held his shoulders and flinched. For two hours Sam had been muttering and raving; unable to remember that Dean was alive again. In Sam's fevered mind, his big brother was still in the pit.

"Sam." Dean gave him a firm shake. "Come on, man. You gotta pull it together. I'm right here, Sam. Right here." Sam tossed in his grip, panting and panicked. For once Dean's voice wasn't enough to calm him. He grabbed the thermometer off the nightstand and held Sam's head still long enough to get a reading from his ear.

"Dean…sorry." Sam sobbed softly, tears escaping his eyes and Dean's heart broke a little. "Sorry. Tried…I tried…can't save you."

"It's ok, buddy. It's not your fault. You hear me?" Dean pulled the thermometer away when it beeped and groaned. "You're killin' me here, Sam." His temperature was nearing 104. Dean sighed and went to the bathroom, turning the water on and starting the tub filling with room temperature water. Dean went back to the bed and pulled the twisted, sweat soaked sheets off Sam.

"Ok. Neither one of us is gonna like this much, buddy. Sorry." Dean said ruefully and bent to pull Sam up to sitting. He'd already tested his comfort zone when they got to the room, getting Sam out of the blood soaked shirt and jeans. He drew the line at stripping his boxer briefs though and still wasn't willing to go that far. He wasn't sure either of them wanted to be scarred that way. He got Sam up and over his shoulder, carrying the still mumbling man into the bathroom. He carefully let Sam down so his legs went into the rising water and lowered him quickly. Sam gasped as the cold water rose, eyes flying open in a panic.

"Dean!"

"Hey, hey I'm right here. Sam. Calm down." Dean couldn't say how grateful he was to have Sam's eyes on him finally and held him down in the water when he began to struggle. "Sam! Look at me, dammit."

Sam's eyes rolled and finally settled on his brother's face. They widened and Sam's arms suddenly went slack, his hands gripping Dean's forearms. "Dean." Sam let his head fall forward to land on Dean's shoulder, shaking.

"Yeah, buddy. You've got a fever. Gotta get it down, ok?" Dean waited, hoping Sam was still in there and sighed when Sam nodded against him. "That's good. Just relax."

Sam knew he was sick and remembered being shot and he vaguely remembered Dean digging something out of his side. "Bullet." He mumbled and felt Dean nod.

"Right. Had to dig it out." Dean told him, hoping this meant Sam's fever was coming down. He freed one of his arms from Sam's grip and reached over, turning off the water. "You've got a fever."

"Fever. Right." Sam nodded. The water was making him shiver but the fog in his head was starting to clear; enough so he had flashes of crying and calling out for Dean in Hell. In spite of the cold, a flush crept up his face but he found he couldn't let go of Dean's arm. "You're out." Sam whispered and felt Dean's other arm slide around his shoulders.

"Hasn't quite sunk in yet, huh?" Dean said ruefully and sighed. "Me either, buddy." Sam shook harder and began to shiver in earnest. He curved a hand at the back of Sam's neck, relieved to feel the heat had lessened. "Ok, let's get you out of here." He pulled Sam's arm over his shoulders and stood with him. Sam swayed but locked his knees to stay standing. Dean hooked a towel and shook it out, glad Sam could stand long enough on his own to get it wrapped around him. "Ok, here we go." Dean steadied him as Sam stepped weakly over the side of the tub and grunted when his legs buckled, catching his considerable weight.

"No more cheeseburgers for you, Dude. Damn." Dean heaved upward again and got Sam's legs under him, weaving him out and back to his bed. Sam laid slowly back, exhausted and barely twitched as Dean got the covers over him again.

A knock at the door had Dean diving for his own bed, sliding his gun out from under the pillow. "Sammy, stay there." Dean said softly. He glanced back to see the barest of nods before going to the door. He stayed to the side, and cracked it open. "What?" Dean asked, relaxing slightly when he saw the Motel manager's face outside. He slid the gun behind his thigh and stepped just outside the door, pulling it to behind him. "You know it's like four in the morning, right?"

"Got a complaint." The manager looked over his shoulder at the Impala and back to Dean. "Guy in the next room said he heard screamin' and I seen your car." He drew his scruffy brows together at Dean. "Look like you stuck a pig in the front seat boy."

"Shit." Dean said softly.

"I don't want your kind o' trouble here. Whatever you're doin'. I don't wanna know but you aint doin' it here. You got half an hour and then I'm callin' the police if you aint gone." He turned on his heel, not waiting for a response and stalked away.

"Dammit!" Dean cursed and went back into the room. He shut the door and leaned against it for a minute before springing into motion.

"Dean?" Sam asked weakly from the bed.

"Manager's got a bug up his ass about us." Dean growled. "We have to leave before he calls the cops down on us and there's no way we're explaining you being shot with a guy dead." He dragged his duffel out, thumping it up on his bed and started throwing clothes into it. "Whoa, whoa, whoa! What do you think you're doing?" Dean dodged over to Sam as his brother threw his legs to the floor and started to sit up. He took Sam's shoulders, steadying him.

"Gonna…help." Sam panted, skin pasty.

"No, you're not. You're gonna lay there and wait til I'm done." Dean pushed and Sam pushed back, albeit weakly. "Sam."

"Dean." Sam tried to fight the strong hands on his shoulders.

Dean gave him a little shake and Sam curled in on himself, dropping back to the bed. "Sam. Look." Dean sat beside him and waited until Sam's eyes met his. "Dude, you need rest and I can handle this. I…" Dean paused looking away for a moment and then meeting his eyes again. "You saved my ass tonight, buddy. So, I'm gonna take care of this." Sam's eyes widened and Dean felt an imminent, dreaded chick flick moment coming and decided to head it off. "Thanks." He said gruffly and stood, returning to packing. "But next time friggin duck faster man."

_**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-** _

Dean went the only place he could think of that would be safe for Sam to heal up and eased in beside Tiberiu's old pickup in the temporary Carnie camp. As if on cue, the large man himself appeared in the doorway of Ileana's garishly colored camper rubbing his eyes. Dean climbed out, leaving Sam asleep in the back.

"Hey, Tiberiu." He grinned. "Don't suppose you got room somewhere for us til this mess is cleaned up?"

"Vhat has happened, Dean?" The Strong men came down and clasped his arm briefly, bending to peer in at Sam.

"Motel Manager saw the blood in the car and, uh…decided he didn't want our kind of trouble there." Dean scrubbed a hand over his head. "Threatened to call the cops and I can't let 'em find Sammy. Too many questions."

Tiberiu nodded and pulled the back door of the car open. "You must tell me now how this happened. First, we get him inside. Friend, Sam?" Tiberiu tapped Sam's head lightly and smiled at the bleary eyes that opened to greet him. "Ve must you get comfortable, yes?"

Sam nodded weakly and braced a hand on the back of the seat, trying to pull himself up.

"No, no you let us do the vork." Tiberiu frowned at him as Dean opened the door on the other side and slipped in behind Sam.

"Listen to the man, Sammy. Take it easy." Dean helped slide his brother across the seat with Tiberiu gently pulling and soon they had him vertical outside the car. "Where to?"

Tiberiu nodded to the caravan beside Ileana's. "That one. Owner does not mind loaning it to you for a while." He said with a grin.

Dean chuckled and didn't argue, desperate to get Sam somewhere he could lay down and heal. It was slow going and as they reached the bottom step, Sam lost his battle and passed out completely. "Crap." Dean groaned, taking most of the weight until Tiberiu tsked, bent and swept Sam's legs up easily.

"I carry. You get Ileana." The Romanian smiled and started up the short steps as Dean dashed to the other caravan. He turned, ducking through the short doorway and straightened inside. A wide, overlong bed stretched across the back and he laid Sam gently on top of the thick blankets. "Ah little man. What has happened to you?" He asked sadly and straightened Sam's arms and legs as Dean ran inside, Ileana on his heels.

"Hey, a bed long enough for the sasquatch!" Dean said and chuckled, sitting beside his brother's head. "He wake up yet?"

"No." Tiberiu stepped back so Ileana could reach the boy and hissed in sympathy when she removed the bandage, revealing the cauterized wound on Sam's left side. "You should perhaps tell vhat happened now?" Dean nodded, hand resting on Sam's forehead and gave them the Cliff Notes version, hitching slightly over his brother taking a bullet meant for him.

"He was bleeding out when the car broke down." Dean wiped a hand over his face, breathing through the remembered panic. "Didn't have any sutures and I had to cauterize it closed."

Ileana poked and prodded Sam's abdomen, making him moan and smiled up at Dean. "You did vell, considering. I do better." She stood and muttered something in Romanian to Tiberiu before leaving.

"She is getting tea for him." Tiberiu said wryly with a shake of his head.

Dean laughed. "Well that will wake him up for sure." He frowned, looking down. "Hopefully get rid of this damn fever too before it climbs again."

"Haz been bad?" Tiberiu asked and opened a small refrigerator, pulling a cold bottle of water out and handing it to Dean with a cloth. "Use this."

"Thanks." Dean poured some of the water on the cloth and laid it over Sam's forehead. His brother moaned and rolled his head toward him.

"Dean?" Sam whispered, afraid to speak louder and make his head pound harder.

"Hey buddy. Back with us?" Dean lifted the cloth from his eyes.

"Think so." Sam sighed. "Where…?"

"Tiberiu's caravan. Our new hideout for the foreseeable future." Dean smirked. "Dude's actually got a bed long enough for your mutant legs."

"Bite me." Sam said on a short laugh. It pulled the healing wound in his side and he hissed, trying to curl around it.

"Hey, easy. Don't." Dean stopped him and straightened him out again. "It'll just hurt more if you hunch up."

Sam nodded and stayed still with effort. "Where's…my shirt?"

Dean laughed. "Dude, took me ten minutes just to get your pants on and we were running out of time. You'll live without a shirt for now."

Sam frowned, unhappy but closed his eyes and just breathed. Ileana bustled back in, a bag in one hand and a steaming cup in the other. She handed the cup to Dean. "He vill drink. Now."

Dean snorted. "You heard her, buddy. Bottoms up." Dean slid an arm beneath Sam's shoulders and helped raise him up, holding the cup steady for him while he sipped at it, wrinkling his nose.

"Bitter." Sam gasped but Ileana reached over and tipped the cup higher, making him drink more in a gulp.

"Gah!" Sam gagged and turned his head away. "That's awful."

Ileana took the cup, looking in and nodded. "Is enough."

"What gives, lady?" Dean asked angrily. No one man handled his brother but him. "Hey, hey, Sam?" Dean asked, worried when Sam's head suddenly lolled on his arm and he went limp.

"Iz alright." Ileana smiled, patting Dean's arm. "You not want him avake for this." She pulled a small scalpel and sutures from her bag. "Fever is from infection. Here." She pressed lightly on the wound. "Must be cleaned."

Dean dropped his head. "Right. Ok." He laid Sam back down carefully, replacing the cold cloth on his forehead and winced as Ileana cut cleanly into the burned wound with a steady hand.

_**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-** _

"Dean." Sam's voice woke Dean from where he rested against the side of the bed, head pillowed on his arms.

"Huh? Hey!" Dean took a good look at him, pleased with the color returned to his face. He swept a hand under Sam's shaggy hair and smiled wider, finding the fever nearly gone. "How you feelin'?"

"Kinda floaty." Sam said and chuckled. "What the hell'd she give me?"

"More of her tea." Dean said with a smirk. "Knocked you cold so she could fix my handiwork."

Sam got his arms under him and pushed himself slowly up, snorting when Dean's arm was instantly behind his back to support him as his brother shoved pillows behind him. "Dude, I'm not gonna break."

"Could'a fooled me." Dean said darkly and shook his head, leaving Sam to lay back. "Now, since you're finally coherent again, don't suppose you have any idea who the guy who shot you was?"

"I never saw his face." Sam frowned. "He was wearing a mask and hood and I didn't go look after. Was more concerned with getting you out of there."

Dean nodded. "We need to know what the hell's going on." He couldn't let himself imagine his gutshot little brother carrying him all the way out of the house and back to the car without fury rising up to choke him. He wanted to kill the shooter all over again.

Ileana entered the caravan with two mugs in her hands and smiled at them. "Good morning, boys." She sat on the edge of the bed and handed a mug to each. "You vill drink."

"Uh…" Sam paused. "I really don't need to be knocked out again."

Ileana rolled her eyes. "Is only tea. You drink, then maybe you eat." She waited, raising her brows until both men sighed and drank.

"Hey, that's not bad, Sammy." Dean smiled. "Wish it was coffee though."

Ileana snorted. "Drink all." She ordered. When both men had drained their cups she took Dean's and rather than set it aside, she held it carefully between her palms and turned it toward the light as she stared down into the tea leaves at the bottom.

"What are you doing?" Dean asked and got a glare in return.

"Shush, boy. I am seeing." Ileana studied the leaves carefully and looked up finally to Dean. "I see many things in leaves." Dean snorted and she swatted his leg. "I am gypsy, boy. Do not mock the old vays. There is bad man who vants the Mine destroyed." She looked back into the cup. "Not man you found dead last night. He vas…how do you…a pawn. Man who shot him…hmm."

"What?" Dean leaned forward, curious now in spite of himself.

"I cannot see him clearly." Ileana frowned and then shrugged, setting the cup aside. "Find his name and you vill find solution to your problem."

"Gee." Dean sat back and wiggled his brows at Sam. "Thanks." Ileana swatted at him again and took Sam's cup from him. As before, she cupped it gently and tilted it to the light, staring intently. Her eyes widened; she began to tremble and tears formed in her eyes. As she looked up to Sam, the tears spilled over to fall down her cheeks.

"Ileana?" Sam asked softly.

The old woman set his cup aside and leaned across the bed. She took Sam's face in her hands, cupping it affectionately and placed a wet kiss on his forehead before turning tear stained eyes to him. "Thank you, brave boy." She whispered softly. "I cannot tell you vhat I saw. To do so vould be…dangerous but I can thank you." Her tears had not stopped and there was such sorrow on her face as she peered into his eyes that he felt his heart clench. "So I vill tell you vhat no one else vill know to say. Thank you." With that she stood and shuffled from the caravan, drying her face.

"Sammy?" Dean leaned in, hand on Sam's shoulder. "You ok? What the hell was that?"

Sam shook his head slowly. "I don't know. It didn't make any sense."

"Ok. She makes a hell of a cup of tea but that old lady is one twisted crank." Dean scowled at the door where she'd left, more disturbed than he was willing to let on. He had the overwhelming urge to bundle Sam up and hide him away somewhere; forever; to protect him from whatever it was she'd seen in the damn cup.

"Vinchesters!" Tiberiu strode quickly into the caravan, breaking the odd feeling. "The Politia is coming. They have found body and vish to search us."

"Crap!" Dean exclaimed and looked frantically around for some way to hide Sam.

Tiberiu waved an arm. "Iz being taken care of." He bent and pulled a bundle of brightly colored, filmy clothes from a trunk and shoved them at Dean. "You vill vear. They vill not know you." He went to the bed and smiled at Sam. "Ve must hide you. Forgive." He bent and scooped Sam from the bed, blanket and all as he yelped in surprise.

"Where are you going with my brother?" Dean asked, still standing with the clothes a pile in his arms and blocking Tiberiu's exit.

"Others vill take him into woods. Hide him. Politia must not see wound. Yes?" Tiberiu waited for Dean's reluctant nod.

"I can walk." Sam argued but Tiberiu ignored him, heading for the door once Dean had moved.

"Faster to carry." Tiberiu muttered and left with a still arguing Sam. Dean dropped the clothes on the bed and then heard the Impala's engine rumble to life.

"What the hell?" Dean sprinted from the Caravan and saw his baby being maneuvered through a stand of trees into the woods, Tiberiu walking in front with his brother. Behind the car, several Carnies moved slowly with bushy limbs and blankets, sweeping away evidence of her passage. "Well I'll be damned." He shook his head, impressed and went back inside.

_**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-** _

Tiberiu set Sam down in a small clearing a few hundred yards from the camp on a pile of blankets that had been waiting. "Here you must stay until Politia leave and be quiet." Behind him, the Impala was eased slowly to a stop and quickly covered with branches to further hide her from prying eyes. "These vill stay with you."

Two attractive women settled to the ground beside Sam, one handing him a bottle of water with a shy smile. "Uh…ok." Sam nodded and let himself lay back on the blankets. The fact that so little exertion had tired him was not making him happy and his side was burning with pain again.

"Do not vorry." Tiberiu smiled. He spoke a few words in Romanian to the women and then sprinted away.

_**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-** _

Dean stumbled out of the caravan door as Tiberiu reached the encampment and threw his arms out.

"What the hell, Tiberiu? I am NOT wearing a damn dress!" Dean shouted, disgusted and growled dangerously when the strong man began to laugh. Dean wore a collection of gypsy skirts and scarves; a young, flustered woman emerged behind him and twitched a few more into place before skittering off with a giggle.

"You are bearded voman, yes?" Tiberiu said between gales of laughter and tugged him down to the ground. "Is good disguise. You vill not speak either. You are Romanian who does not know the English."

"We are gonna talk about this later." Dean growled as the first police cruiser appeared around the bend in the road. He sat angrily on the bottom step of the caravan, legs splayed and jumped when Tiberiu cuffed his head.

"Sit like lady." Tiberiu rolled his eyes and worked to school the laughter from his face before the first officer got out of the car.

_**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-** _

_To be continued…_


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader Prompts in this chapter: Boys rescue kid from a monster, Sam still sick/having nightmares & boy tries to 'cure' him with snuggles; one of the cops, a short guy, takes a shine to Dean in drag, the 2 gypsy girls take a shine to Sam; Sam pretends he's fine for Dean in usual stubborn fashion, boys are forced to run and leave Impala behind; Gypsy catfight over Sam who gets punched in the face breaking it up; Dean accidentally hurts Sam; one of the Mine's ghosts attack the gypsies.

_**CHAPTER 8** _

Sam woke with a jerk, lurching out of sleep and surprised to feel an unfamiliar weight on his chest. He looked down to find a small boy with a thatch of blonde hair curled at his side, head resting on his chest and arms around him as Sam gasped in a few more breaths.

"Uh, hello?" Sam asked and patted a hand on the boys head. Rather than answer, he snuggled in harder against Sam's right side, small arm carefully above the still tender bullet wound. He could feel that he still had a low fever; he was unnaturally warm.

"You had bad dream." One of the two gypsy girls told him and smoothed a hand across his brow. "Mihai vas helping." She smiled down at the boy. "He has bad dreams too since parents die in mine."

"Aw crap." Sam said softly and put a gentle hand on the boys back, feeling a kinship with him. Mihai wrapped his arms more securely around Sam's chest and stayed silent. "Does he talk?"

"Not since mine." The girl sighed sadly. She opened a bottle of water and held it for Sam to take a drink.

He took it gratefully, swallowing the cool water before handing it back. "How long was I out?"

The second girl, as pretty as the first moved closer to his left hip, brushing a hand across his shoulder and glared at the other girl. "Only for small vhile. Politia are still in camp."

Sam got the feeling that in those few minutes, he had missed something. "Mihai?" Sam said softly to the little boy and was rewarded when deep blue eyes rolled to meet his. Sam smiled. "Hi short stuff. Thanks." Mihai gave Sam a little smile and refused to move when Sam pushed gently at his arms. Sam chuckled. "Ok, you stay there for a minute."

"You are so sveet." The first Gypsy girl told him, leaning closely. "I am Katya."

The second girl, Sam would have sworn she actually growled, leaned in on his other side and shoved Katya's hand away. "Of course he is. Too sveet for likes of you." She gave wide eyes to Sam and a heated smile. "You vould be better vith Eliska." She purred at Sam. "Man should have good Gypsy voman at his side, yes?"

"Uh…" Sam stuttered but the girls were no longer talking to him. They were spitting at each in Romanian. "Oh hell." Sam groaned as the women stood and moved away, continuing an argument that was clearly about him. He felt a fierce blush creep up his neck and into his face. Dean would love this. He peeled Mihai's arms off when the first slap was thrown. "Stay back, Mihai. I have to go make the grown-ups play nice, ok?" Sam stood with effort and strode over to what was quickly escalating into a loud cat fight.

"Girls! Uh…Eliska? Katya?" Sam stepped up to them as they reached a fevered pitch and put himself between them. "You've got to quiet…" He finished the sentence on a grunt when Eliska's fist landed square on his jaw. He stumbled back into Katya in surprise and watched as their faces morphed into almost comic distress. Sam rubbed his jaw and rolled his eyes. "Dean's never gonna let me live this down." He groaned.

_**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-** _

Dean just couldn't make himself cross his legs and sit like a girl. He growled and stood beside Tiberiu instead. The strong man snorted a low laugh and reached over, draping a thin veil across Dean's face as two officers strolled over to them. One of the cops walked very sure of himself and tall while the other, who barely topped five foot four walked behind him and looked warily up at Tiberiu's towering height.

"Sir…uh…Ma'am." The taller officer said with a questionable look at Dean in his finery. "We have to ask you some questions."

Tiberiu waved off the Carnies edging closer for a look and smiled down at them. "Vhat can ve do to help, officers? Ve are just Carnies, passing through."

"Right. Well, there's been a murder in the area and we're talking to everyone." The officer said and took a step back at Tiberiu's frown.

"And so you come to us? Ve are Carnies and so ve must be hiding something?" Tiberiu's voice rose and Dean had to admit he was enjoying watching the cop be intimidated. The shorter one though was paying little attention to Tiberiu. Instead he was looking Dean up and down with a small smile and when Dean caught his eye, the short guy actually winked at him. Dean backed up a step, eyes wide and was relieved his little brother wasn't here to see this; he'd never live it down.

"Ah sir, we just need to know if you can't account for the whereabouts of all your people last night." The short cop finally spoke and smiled winningly up at the huge man. "Also, anyone have any sudden injuries today?"

Dean tensed and then tensed again when Tiberiu's arm dropped onto his shoulders. "Injuries? Our son he has skinned knee does he not ma draga?" Dean glared up into the laughing eyes and rolled his own as Tiberiu spoke in Romanian to him before looking back at the cops. "Forgive. She does not speak English. Only language of homeland."

"Wife?" The shorter cop asked, looking crestfallen and gave Dean's skirted and scarved appearance one last longing look before shrugging and turning away. "Come on, man. This is a bust."

"Look." The taller cop shook his head. "Just…keep your people close ok? Until you leave town?" He turned with an irritated sigh to follow his partner. "Dude I can't believe you were checking that out."

Dean heard the taller man say and the shorter man whistled and gave a little shake. "Joe you just don't know a good woman when you see her. The bigger they are, the more fun they are to climb."

"Jesus, Bill. You are one sick bastard." Joe groaned as they got into the cruiser and backed out of the encampment.

Tiberiu waited until they were out of sight to let out the gales of laughter he'd had stewing. Dean tossed a punch at the man's shoulder while tearing the veils from his head. "Not cool, man." Dean growled. "Do not tell my brother about the midget cop." He took a step toward the caravan to go change and froze. "Did you hear that?" Dean turned toward the forest, Tiberiu at his side and both men strained to hear. As one they bolted into the woods as screams echoed faintly through the trees.

_**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-** _

Sam rubbed his jaw appreciatively; for such a small woman, Eliska packed a hell of a punch. "Girls, you need to calm down. This is ridic…" Sam trailed off as a low growl came from the thick underbrush at the back of their clearing. His instincts kicked in and he felt adrenaline begin to flood his system as the warning rang through him. "Get behind me." Sam grabbed an arm each of the girls and pulled them. He was unarmed and still healing and they were on their own. "Into the car." Sam said, deciding. He turned and pushed both women toward the Impala.

"Vhat is it?" Eliska whispered fearfully as the growl came again, closer.

"Don't know." Sam pushed them again. "Get in the car. Lock the doors. Mihai!" Sam edged toward the pile of blankets where Mihai still sat, both hands to his mouth and eyes wide in fear as he stared into the trees. "Come on, kiddo." He was less than ten feet away when one of the largest Cougars Sam had ever seen burst from the underbrush. It landed in the clearing, the boy between it and Sam and bared two long rows of sharp teeth at the child. It bunched powerful hindquarters and Sam leaped forward. Ignoring the burning in his side, he sprinted the last few feet and scooped Mihai into his arms as the Cougar sprang; its claws swiping through the air as it growled loudly at having its prey removed.

Sam turned and sprinted for the Impala as the girls screamed. "Get in the damn car!" Sam shouted at them. The girls scrambled to the car, pulling the door open and climbing inside still screaming. Sam reached them, thumping into the Impala's side and handed Mihai to them. "Keys! Give me the keys!" The girls were too terrified of the predator stalking towards them to do more than watch. Mihai, however, reached across Katya's lap and pulled the keys from the ignition. He turned back and threw them out the open door to Sam.

"Thanks, kiddo!" Sam slammed the door shut and turned, ducking away as the Cougar pounced and banged into the door headfirst. Sam darted around the back of the car, fumbled the keys into the lock while shoving the covering branches off the car and keeping his eyes on the big cat. The trunk came open at the same moment the cat lunged for him again. Sam fell backwards, feeling razor sharp claws slice cleanly through his shirt and graze along his right forearm. "Shit!" He rolled away, coming to his feet facing the Cougar. The trunk was cracked open but the cat was blocking his way now. Sam stared into the golden eyes as it slowly advanced and jolted in surprise as a trickle of ectoplasm appeared at the corner of its eye.

"Great." He groaned. The Cougar was possessed by a ghost and given the way it was focused on him now; he had to assume it was one of the Miner's that had hitched a ride. He clutched his bleeding arm and looked over the cat. Both girls and Mihai were pressed into the rear window, watching in terror and Sam knew he had to protect them. He backed to the edge of the clearing and then bolted through the trees and into the forest, the cat chasing after as he'd hoped it would.

_**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-** _

Dean and Tiberiu burst through the trees into the clearing just as something large vanished through the underbrush beyond the car. "Sammy!" Dean shouted. Two gypsy girls and a little boy tumbled out of the Impala, running to Tiberiu and gibbering in Romanian. The boy simply threw himself at the strong man and hid his face. "Where's my brother?" Dean demanded, taking of the girls arms. "Where is he?"

"Saved me." The little boy said softly, so softly and yet all three gypsies froze and looked down in shock.

"Mihai?" Tiberiu knelt and picked the boy up. "You are talking again?"

"Mihai." Dean put a calmer smile on his face for the kid's benefit. "Where's my brother? What happened?"

"The girls they say big cat came." Tiberiu told him, cradling the boy. "Sam made them safe in car and drew it avay into voods."

"He saved me." Mihai said again and pointed a thin arm to where he'd seen the disturbance as they arrived.

"Thanks kid." Dean ran to the back of the Impala and frowned when he saw the keys hanging out of the lock and the trunk partially open. "Dammit." He knew now his brother was out there unarmed and nowhere near fighting fit. Dean threw the trunk open and pulled out his shotgun, checking it was loaded and then his gun, tucking that into his pants.

"Friend, you cannot chase them alone." Tiberiu argued but Dean waved a hand.

"I got this. You take care of them. Get back to the camp." Dean spared them no more attention and sprinted into the woods after his little brother and the hungry cat.

_**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-** _

Sam ran. He pelted across the uneven ground. Behind him he could hear the Cougar crashing through the brush as it chased him and the sounds were far too close for comfort. He wove in and out of the trees, knowing the big cat could easily outpace him on open ground. He spared a glance over his shoulder and saw the wild eyes of the Cougar far too close. Sam grabbed hold of a slim tree trunk and skidded to a stop, changing direction. He waited for the cat as it came and slid in an abrupt stop. Sam kicked out one long leg, catching it in the side of the head and sent it tumbling.

The impact reverberated up his leg and into his stomach making him wince as it pulled his stitches. He used the distraction to start running again, trying to gain more ground and change direction back towards the clearing, the car and the nearest weapons. The Cougar suddenly bounded up beside him, body checking Sam in the hip and sent him sprawling as it ran past.

Sam skidded into the leaf litter, grunting as he came to a stop. He expected the cat to be waiting to gut him but saw in surprise that it kept going. "What the hell?" Sam made himself get up, holding his side with his bleeding arm and ran after it. Whatever it was doing, it couldn't be good. He followed the Cougar, sprinting against the growing pain in his side to catch up. He couldn't see it but he could easily here it crashing through the trees and bushes, heedless of stealth. It was heading back to the car and he couldn't leave the girls and Mihai defenseless to face it.

Sam opened his mouth to yell, to draw the possessed Cougar's attention when a boom sounded through the trees. Sam jerked back as he felt a scattered impact in his chest and fell backwards to the ground with a gasp. He looked down to see spots of blood blooming on his shirt and unmistakable pellets of rock salt embedded through the shirt and into his skin. "Dean!" Sam shouted and let his head fall back with a thump.

_**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-** _

Dean ran, following the sound of something large crashing and bulling its way through the forest. The sounds had been growing further away from him and he ruthlessly controlled the panic that threatened to choke him. He had to reach Sam before the damn cat, whatever it was found him first. He poured on more speed from reserves he didn't know he had and frowned when he realized the sound was getting closer now. The creature was coming back toward him. Dean raised the shotgun as the crashing drew near and skidded to a stop near a screening of tall bushes, waiting. Moments later a massive Cougar burst through, crazed eyes sweeping over him and Dean fired at its head.

The Cougar was faster than he'd thought. It twisted and ducked the spray of rock salt as it rolled to the side. Dean followed its movements and fired again as he heard his brother cry out his name. "Sam!" Dean yelled but had no time to check on him. He jumped clear as the cat, once more dodging the spray, leaped at him. He hastily pulled fresh shells from his pocket, popping the gun open as he circled the creature and reloaded. Dean clicked the shotgun closed and fell to his back as the Cougar leaped again. This time it couldn't avoid the shot and the rock salt took it square in the face. The animal fell to the ground, sliding to a stop at Dean's feet with a snarled cry. He watched, stunned as a familiar smoke poured out of the big cat to dissipate into the air.

"Gotta be kidding me." Dean panted, recognizing the departing form for a ghost. "Possessed Cougars." He sighed and rolled to his feet. "What next? Sam!" Dean left the unconscious creature where it lay and ran into the brush, pushing through to find his brother. "Sam? Answer me!"

He broke through to the other side and simply stopped, staring; his eyes refusing to accept what was clear in front of him. Sam was struggling to stand with the help of a tree; back against the bark and one hand hovering over a bloodied pattern in his chest that Dean knew had come from his own gun. "Oh god." Dean shook off the paralysis and ran to him. "Sam?" Dean braced his swaying brother. "God, Sammy I'm sorry." He dropped the gun and moved Sam's hand out of the way to get a better look at the damage.

"S'okay, Dean." Sam said in a pained voice but smiled up at him. "You didn't know…I was there." He tried to shove Dean's hand away. "Not that bad. You get it?"

"Knock it off and lemme look, dammit." Dean growled.

"Dean, ow…quit it." Sam said, exasperated and pushed away from the tree. "I'm fine. Did you get the Cougar?"

"Yes I got the damn cat." Dean rolled his eyes as Sam wobbled away from him and he followed. Inside he was still quaking with the knowledge he'd shot his own brother. He scooped up the shotgun and studiously avoided noticing how it was shaking in his hands. I shot Sam. He said to himself silently, the thought echoing through his head. He shook once, hard, remembering that he'd almost used the pistol instead; ready to kill the creature when he thought how Sam would be angry with him if he had. Dean watched Sam's hunched, uneven gait ahead of him and felt the bottom drop out of his stomach. He could have killed him; if not for a last second decision he would have. The wounds were all on the upper left side of his chest; around his heart.

"Dean?" Sam stopped and turned, seeing his brother's face whiter than it should be. "Are you hurt?" Sam went back to him and started pulling at Dean's clothes and then he stopped and stared, a grin beginning to tug at his mouth and tired eyes as he finally took in what Dean was wearing. "Dude…" Sam took a moment, swallowed. "Are you wearing a…a dress?"

Dean shook off the paralyzing terror and glared at his little brother. "Not one word, Sammy." Dean warned. He took Sam's arm and shook his head when he felt the blood beneath his hand. He tugged at the shredded sleeve and saw four, shallow claw marks on his arm. "You tease me right now and I'm cleaning all this up without anesthetic." Dean let go of his arm and stepped around to his other side, pulling Sam's good arm over his shoulders. "Don't argue, sasquatch." Dean warned when Sam opened his mouth to lie and tell him again how fine he was. Sam studied his face for a second and then nodded, letting his big brother take some of his weight.

"The girls? Mihai? They ok?" Sam asked, shuffling beside Dean and he frowned when he felt small tremors in the shoulders under his arm. He looked down again and then waivered when realization sank in. Dean was terrified that he'd almost killed him. That was why he was so brusque and so focused on helping him. Sam sighed and did the only thing he could think of to help relieve some of the tension he felt in the man next to him. "You borrow that skirt from Eliska? Kinda looks like the one she's wearing." He said with a smirk. Dean growled but didn't reply. "Wait, are there shoes too? Dude, are you wearing heels? Lemme see."

"Bite me, Sammy." Dean said fiercely and yet felt a smirk tugging at his mouth none the less. Sam was alive to tease him about the dress. That was worth it.

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_To Be Continued…_


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader Prompts in this chapter: Eliska and Katya fight over Sam again & rip his shirt, Dean teases him about it; a ghost comes to the gypsy encampment and kidnaps Mihai, wounds Tiberiu and the boys have to go save him; Mihai stows away in the Impala because he wants to be like Sam & they can't take him home right away, lots of Sam snuggles; Sam collapses while trying to play down his injuries to Dean; expose the guy who shot Sam; boys get more advice from Ileana; Sam gets dragged by someone intending help or harm & gets more beat up in the process, Dean freaks; the spirits take Sam and Mihai, Dean and Tiberiu go to the rescue.

_**CHAPTER 9** _

"Let's get you in the car." Dean shuffled Sam toward the passenger door of the Impala, now free of covering branches thanks to Tiberiu but Sam shrugged off his arm.

"Dude, I'm fine. I can walk. It's not that far." Sam told him and stepped away. He hugged his wounded arm to his chest and smiled at Tiberiu and the girls.

"You look like cat chew toy." Tiberiu told Sam, taking in his bleeding arm and blood spattered chest.

Sam snorted a laugh. "I feel like one too." He grunted when Mihai appeared from around the car and ran to him, plastering himself to Sam's legs. "Hey, Mihai." Sam pried the arms loose and let Mihai hold his hand.

Dean shook his head, irritated. His brother's chest looked like burger meat thanks to him, clawed arm and healing gunshot and he wanted to walk around like it was just a damn scratch. He watched Sam hobble off into the trees with Mihai at his side and sighed. "Dammit."

Tiberiu dropped a hand onto Dean's shoulder in sympathy. "He vill be alright, friend Dean. Ve vill see to it, yes?"

"Whether he likes it or not." Dean growled. He scrubbed a hand over his face and opened the driver's side door, listening to the two gypsy girls chattering at Sam as they walked away. "You wanna go walk with him? Make sure those girls don't hurt him?" Tiberiu chuckled, nodding and closed the door for Dean as he started the engine.

The Gypsy camp was in controlled uproar as Dean parked the Impala beside Tiberiu's caravan. News of the attack in the forest had spread and Ileana was surrounded by chattering, excited people as she attempt to make Sam sit where she could reach him. Dean chuckled as he watched the two gypsy girls each take a shoulder and push him down while Mihai tugged on his good arm and Sam ended sitting on the bench beside Ileana's caravan with a bemused smile on his pale face.

Sam watched his brother get out of the car, hike up his ridiculous skirts and vanish inside Tiberiu's caravan to change. He chuckled and then hissed out a breath as Ileana peeled his shirt away from his chest. "It's really not that bad." Sam told the old woman. She raised an elegant, grey brow at him and ignored him.

Ileana rolled her eyes when she was bumped from behind and turned to glare at the crowd around them. She shouted in Romanian, punched the air a few times with a long finger and obediently the crowd dispersed leaving only Ileana, Sam and Mihai who wouldn't relinquish his hold. He sat on the ground beside Sam's leg, arms wrapped around his knee.

Ileana gave the child an adoring smile. "This micuta….little one he is fond of you." She caressed a hand over Mihai's hair and went back to Sam's chest.

Sam nodded, smiling. "The girls said he spoke?" He looked down at the boy. "Mihai?" The boy only smiled up at him before resting his head against Sam's knee again happily.

"Is good." Ileana tsked as she finally had a clear view of his chest. "He vill speak more vhen ready. You should lie down." She told Sam. "This vill hurt." She gestured to the chunks of rock salt still embedded in the skin. Sam shook his head.

"I'll be fine." He smiled at her and steeled himself as she aimed a pair of tweezers at the first chunk. He was tired of being flat on his back and wounded and no use to his brother. He needed to do better than this, he told himself. He'd survived four months…four long months without Dean and he needed his big brother to know he wasn't helpless. He could see something dark and painful lurking behind Dean's eyes and it tore at his heart. He could only imagine what Dean had suffered in the pit. Now that he was miraculously free he didn't want to end up being just another burden his brother had to carry around. Sam needed to be stronger for him. He flinched each time Ileana removed a piece of the salt and focused on the tightening of Mihai's arms around his leg to take his mind off of it.

Dean emerged from the caravan with a relieved smile, happy to be in his own clothes again and rolled his shoulders, settling his jacket. He easily found Sam still where he'd left him. A large, white bandage covered his upper chest and Ileana was bent over the scratches on his arm, pouring disinfectant of some sort. He watched Sam's face pale further, frowning when he hunched forward. Sam's eyes opened and saw him and Dean watched as he forced himself to sit straighter and toss a wave toward him as though he weren't in nine kinds of pain. Dean shook his head, striding over to watch Ileana carefully wrap his arm from elbow to wrist.

"Liked the dress better." Sam commented with a smirk.

"Next time you can wear it." Dean said flippantly. He bent, tugging gently at the bandage on Sam's chest, wanting to see for himself that it was properly cleaned. Ileana swatted his hand away and he snarled. She only grinned at him.

"I have cleaned. It is good." She gestured around the camp at the gypsies still standing about in groups and looking nervously into the trees around them. "They are vorried. Spirits could come back. Be useful." She finished wrapping Sam's arm and patted his shoulder. "You can help us?"

Dean nodded as did Sam. "Yeah we can protect the camp temporarily while we figure out what's going on and stop it." Dean smiled. "How much salt you got around here?"

"And cat's eye shells if you have any of those too." Sam rose, bracing a hand on the wall of the caravan for a moment. "We have some in the trunk but more would be better." Ileana nodded and walked off, clapping her hands and calling in Romanian. Soon several people were dodging off into various caravans and trailers with purpose.

"You need to sit down." Dean told Sam. "Better yet lay down. I can handle this."

Sam shook his head. "Dean I'm ok. Ileana's tea earlier did a good job helping to heal the bullet wound and this stuff." He gestured at his chest and arm. "Not as bad as it looks." He smiled, trying to convince his brother. "With two of us this will go faster." Sam turned toward where a growing pile of salt containers was accumulating, Mihai holding firm to his hand and left Dean to follow.

"Dammit, kid." Dean growled and ran an angry hand through his short hair. "Why do you have to be so damn stubborn?" He chuckled at himself then, knowing the answer to that; genetics. Since he couldn't make Sam stay down, he'd stay at his side and keep an eye him. Despite Sam's protestations that he was 'fine' Dean could see the fine tremble running through his shoulders; familiar with how his brother's body reacted to pain from a lifetime of experience.

Half an hour later, the largest salt circle Dean had ever seen was going up around the whole of the gypsy camp. They worked in groups, pouring the thick line to keep the spirits at bay. Dean had explained the gypsies would need to watch it at all times, keep it whole; that spirits could call up the wind sometimes to break it. He and Sam we're working toward each other, Mihai tagging along beside Sam like a puppy and Dean chuckled as he remembered how Sam had been much the same with him at that age. A pang of regret made him sigh, wondering when he had lost that kid that idolized him, trusted him. Now Sam was determined to be super hunter and didn't seem to need or want Dean like he used to. It hurt.

"How you doin', Sammy?" Dean called. He whirled when he heard a crash behind him and froze as he saw his little brother sprawled in the grass, Mihai hovering beside him, death grip on his arm. "Sam!" Dean sprinted the few yards, salt line forgotten and skidded to his knees beside them. He gently rolled Sam to his back, running a hand over his face and under the damp hair sticking to his forehead. "Ah hell, Sam." He was running a fever and down for the count, not even stirring at Dean's touch or when Mihai slid in next to his shoulder and wrapped his small arms around Sam's neck, pulling his head into his lap. "He'll be ok, kid." Dean said and checked Sam's pulse, worried to find it faster than it should be. "Sammy." Dean called and gently tapped his cheek. "Come on, Sam. Wake up." Seeing his brother boneless like this scared Dean more than he liked to admit. "Sammy."

Mihai looked up at Dean and then out into the woods beyond, fear on his face as a growl sounded far too close. "Oh crap." Dean breathed. He turned to face the forest, himself between it and his brother. "Tiberiu!" He called, knowing the man was somewhere nearby. "We got company!" He was torn between grabbing up the salt and finishing the line and staying with Sam. He didn't want to leave him unprotected to finish it and yet knew it was their best defense. The decision was taken out of his hands as a second Cougar, larger than the first leaped from behind a covering of bushes. It didn't play games as the other had. It gave a short snarl and leaped directly into Dean.

The impact bowled him backwards, skidding along the ground and slamming his head into the hard earth. He grunted as the cat left him. Dean managed to turn his head up and see Tiberiu burst into view. The big cat spun and swiped a paw across the strong man's chest, sending him to his knees. Dean rolled to his stomach, feeling the world spin around him as black crept into his vision. The Cougar reared up on its hindlegs over Tiberiu where he hunched on the ground and then did something Dean hadn't expected. The dark mist of a spirit exploded from the cat and rushed into Tiberiu. The giant man collapsed to his back as the Cougar fell boneless to the ground.

"Tiberiu?" Dean gasped. His ribs were burning and bruised from the weight of the big cat crashing into him and he was quickly losing the battle for consciousness. Tiberiu rolled to his knees, stood and stared down at Dean. Nothing of the strong man remained in his eyes as he stalked past Dean toward his brother and the boy. "N…no." Dean reached out a hand to try and stop him and flinched as Tiberiu's big foot snapped out and caught him on the side of the head.

_**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-** _

Dean woke to find Ileana hovering over him. He still lay in the grass and gasped, lurching up with a steely grip on the old woman's arm to look for his brother. He was gone. "Sam!"

"Be still." Ileana put a gentle hand to his head. "He is gone." Sadness covered her face like a mask. "I saw but could not stop it. Tiberiu…" She trailed off and looked down for a moment. "The spirits, they have him yes?" Dean nodded. "He tried to take Mihai but the boy vould not let go of your brother. Tiberiu, he took them both then. Carried avay toward the mines."

"Mihai." Dean let his head fall for a moment, waiting for the spinning to stop. "Sam said the spirit came for him the last time too. It's him they want. Why?" He didn't wait for an answer, wasn't expecting one. Dean made himself get to his knees and then his feet. "Finish the salt line." He told Ileana and stumbled back toward the camp while the old woman called orders to the other gypsies. He forced down the panic gripping his heart, making his head pound even worse. No way had he come back from Hell only to lose Sam like this. Dean went to the Impala and leaned on the trunk for a moment, letting his head settle. Tiberiu had a hell of a right boot.

"Dean!" Ileana called and he turned to see her hurrying toward him with a cup in hand. "You vill drink."

"Ileana I don't…"

She cut him off and shoved the cup into his hand. "Drink. Is for head." She glared at him until he nodded and drank the tea, the taste bitter but surprised when his head began to clear.

"Thanks." Dean handed it back and opened the door. "You keep the camp safe. I'm gonna go get our boys."

_**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-** _

Dean stood outside the entrance to the mines; shotgun in one hand, flashlight in the other and a duffel loaded with every weapon he could think of over his shoulder. He stared down at the large prints he knew belonged to Tiberiu leading into the darkness and took a deep breath. He'd survived decades in the pit, he was going to survive this and so was his brother. He let the rage at having his brother taken from him sweep over him and fill him. It gave him an odd sort of peace as he entered the mine shaft with a simple thought; gank anything standing between him and Sam.

The EMF meter in his pocket whined in and out as he moved, warning him that though he appeared to be alone in the tunnels, he was far from it. Twice the apparitions of dead Miners appeared and Dean blasted both to dust, reloading on auto-pilot and followed the heavy boot prints easily visible in the soft earth of the tunnel floor.

"Sam!" Dean shouted. His call drew another spirit and let it run toward him, drawing close before he loosed another round of rock salt with a satisfied smile. He turned a bend in the shaft and stopped, alert for a trick. Tiberiu lay sprawled across the tunnel floor ahead of him. "Tiberiu?" Dean asked; shotgun trained on the large man in case the spirit was playing possum within him. He groaned, rolling slowly to his side and blue eyes blinked groggily up at Dean.

"Friend Dean?" Tiberiu raised a shaking hand to his head. "Vhat…"

Dean lowered the gun and went to him. He tucked his flashlight in his pocket and reached a hand down. "Come up, big guy." Tiberiu grasped Dean's hand and let himself be pulled to his feet where he swayed and braced one hand against the wall while cradling the other over his bloodied chest.

"Coaie." Tiberiu groaned, looking down at the rents in his vest and the scratches beneath.

"Do you remember anything?" Dean asked him, watching both ends of the passage for spirits.

Tiberiu nodded. "Some. I remember…big cat and then…" He scowled, brows drawing together. "I vas carrying your brother and Mihai…here." Tiberiu turned and looked toward the tunnel leading deeper into the mine. "That vay. It vas taking them that vay."

Dean dropped the duffel and pulled out a second shotgun, handing it to the Romanian. "Point and shoot. Don't hesitate. Just shoot." Dean shouldered the bag again and stalked off down the tunnel he'd indicated. "Sam!" Dean called again, listening to Tiberiu's heavy steps behind him and he paused.

"I heard…" Tiberiu started and Dean raised his hand, stopping him.

He tilted his head, listening and was rewarded with the sound of a young boy calling his brother's name. "Come on." Dean sprinted ahead through the tunnel, following the sound. The two men passed quickly through the passages and oddly encountered no more spirits. The tunnel opened wide into a large chamber and Dean stopped, gun raising to the black figure standing over his brother. Sam was laid out on a long rock in the center of a circle that glistened darkly of blood.

"Get the hell away from him." Dean growled and advanced on the circle, taking in the figures appearance. He was dressed all in black, face hooded and Dean's eyes widened as he saw what was clearly a bullet hole in the center of his chest, over his heart. "Son of a bitch." He looked up to the piercing dark eyes behind the mask. "You're the bastard Sam shot. Why aren't you dead? What the hell are you?"

Tiberiu moved into his line of sight, going to the other side of the cave and quickly picked up a cowering Mihai, cradling the boys in his arms. "Vhat have you done?"

"You cannot kill that which does not die." The dark figure said in response to Dean. It lifted a thin arm and pulled the hood from its head.

"Crap." Dean breathed as he looked on the face of something he'd only read about in his father's journal. His face was wizened, dried looking and sunken, the skin pulled taught over the bones beneath. His eyes were solid black pits, glowing as they looked out at Dean. "A Liche."

It bowed, sarcasm pulling a taught smile across its face. It raised an arm, pointing to the circle. "You cannot cross and this one…" He trailed a hand over Sam's chest and Dean growled, stepping closer to the circle. "I will use."

"Use for what you sick son of a bitch?" Dean's toes were level with the outline of the circle now.

"A new Phylactery." The Liche grinned up at him. "Andrew Moffat found mine here." He waved an arm to encompass the mines. "He removed it. I followed him to his home but I could not find it. No matter." The Liche leaned over Sam and scratched a symbol into the stone beside him with a fingernail. "I shall make a new one."

"Doesn't work like that." Dean inched closer to Tiberiu, staying at the edge of the circle.

"I was going to use the boy." The Liche glanced at Tiberiu and Mihai then back to Sam. "Until I felt this one. His soul…it is…powerful."

"Not gonna happen." Dean tried to take a step forward and an invisible wall stopped him. He pushed harder against it while the Liche laughed.

It bent over Sam carved another symbol into the stone beside his head. "Nothing living may pass my ward." The Liche told Dean and scratched a final symbol into the stone on the near side of Sam's head. His brother's body arched off the stone as the Liche threw his head back, arms out. A thin rope of energy drew from Sam's chest and into the Liche.

Dean stepped back and raised the gun. "Nothing living." He fired and the rock salt passed over the line as though it weren't there, taking the Liche full in the face. Dean fired again into its chest. It was thrown backward, falling to the ground across the circle, breaking it as it landed. Dean sprinted to the altar as Sam collapsed back to the stone. "Sammy? Sam?" Dean put a hand on his chest, relief flooding through him as he felt his brother's heart beating, chest rising with shallow breaths. He stepped around the altar and faced the keening form of the Liche.

"You…cannot…kill me." It growled up at Dean.

Dean nodded. "You're right. Not without your Phylactery. Tiberiu?" The strong man came forward. "make sure he doesn't move." Tiberiu nodded and Dean turned back to Sam. "Sammy?" He asked again and this time his little brother moaned. He set down the shotgun and slid an arm under Sam's shoulders, his other under his knees and grunted with the effort of lifting Sam's long frame from the stone. He carried him outside the circle and set him gently down on the floor. "Don't go anywhere." Dean said softly, feathering a hand through Sam's long hair before going back to the Liche. He dropped the duffel and pulled out a long length of rope.

"Vhat do ve do?" Tiberiu asked. He was truly out of his depth. He had never though a Liche to be a true creature. He grunted in surprise when Mihai struggled to free himself and set the boy down to watch him scramble over to Sam's prone form.

"First, we make sure this Ringwraith son of a bitch stays out of trouble while we're gone." Dean clamped iron hands around the creature's arms and raised it easily. He turned and slammed the Liche down on the stone altar; grabbing up the rope. Tiberiu kept his shotgun trained on the hissing, spitting and cursing creature as Dean expertly tied it to the stone, leaving only its head free to move. Dean reached into the duffel again and came out with a heavy container of salt. He popped the lid and poured a thick line around the altar, caging it in and the spirits out. The Liche screamed its frustration and Dean bent over its head, a grin on his face.

"Here's what I'm going to do. I'm going to go back to Moffat's house. I'm gonna find your Phylactery and then I'm gonna destroy it and you." Dean grinned wider as the Liche roared angrily, fear widening its dead eyes. "You're gonna stay right here and wait for death and have plenty of time to think about how badly you screwed up when you laid a finger on my brother. Come on." Dean straightened and strode to Sam, kneeling beside him.

"He won't wake up." Mihai said softly, looking up to Dean with pleading eyes.

"Sure he will, kid. You just gotta know how to talk to him." Dean leaned over and took Sam's face in his hands. "Sammy!" He said sharply. "I need you to get your ass up! Now!"

Sam stirred, responding to the tone in his big brother's voice, the need he heard there and fought his way back from the place he'd been floating. He cracked his eyes open to find Dean, Mihai and Tiberiu all staring down at him. "D…Dean?"

Dean grinned. "About time you stop lying around." Mihai pulled eagerly on Sam's good arm as Dean helped to raise him until he was sitting. Sam's eyes wandered around the cave and stopped on the stone altar and the Liche.

"Holy crap. Is that…"

"Liche. Yeah." Dean took Sam's arm from Mihai and slid it across his shoulders. "Up we go."

"You haven't enough time!" The Liche shouted from the altar, straining uselessly against the bonds that held it tight. "He is still mine! Even now his life force flows to me!"

Dean's head whipped between the two and he looked carefully at his brother. "Sam? You feel anything…strange?"

Sam scowled. "Dean, I don't…" He trailed off and raised a trembling hand to his chest. "Actually…yeah. There's something…"

"Crap." Dean groaned and glared one more time at the Liche before turning away. "Ok, changes nothing. We just gotta move faster. Come on." Even without the circle, the Liche was still draining the life force from Sam, just far more slowly.

"If faster ve must move." Tiberiu smiled apologetically at Sam and swept him up in his arms. "Come." Sam's irritated protests faded as Tiberiu jogged down the tunnel, Mihai on his heels and Dean grabbed up his duffel, his shotgun and ran to catch them up.

_**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-** _

"Ileana!" Tiberiu unfolded his far too tall body out of the backseat of the Impala the moment they stopped in the Gypsy camp and called for the wise woman, pulling Mihai out with him.

"Out you go, Sammy. You're staying here." Dean ordered but Sam only crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head.

"Nope. I'm going." Sam said and raised a hand as Dean opened his mouth to argue. "It's my life we're talking about here. I'm going and honestly, I feel okay. I mean it's weird." He put a hand over his chest again, rubbing absently. "I can feel it but it doesn't hurt and I can do this." He looked sincerely at Dean, begging him to believe. "I can do this."

Ileana appeared from her caravan, Tiberiu tugging her unceremoniously along with a cup of sloshing tea in his other hand. They reached the passenger side of the car and he pushed the back door shut while opening Sam's. "Here. You must drink."

Ileana huffed and tugged her arm from Tiberiu's grip. She glared up at him. "Grandsons should show more respect." She looked away from him as he rolled his eyes and bent to Sam, placing a hand over top of his on his chest. She hissed between her teeth. "He is right. Drink so I may see." She could feel the pull of something dead draining energy from the boy in front of her and it made her skin crawl. Sam took the cup and drained it quickly, handing it back.

Ileana stood and peered into the cup at the leaves clumped and scattered along its bottom, eyes losing their focus as she opened the other sight and focused on that dead thing and its source of power. "It is in the mansion still." Ileana said softly. "It hides there, surrounded; protected. The eyes of the forest's dead watch over it and the beads of a man once holy surround it." She lowered the cup and took a deep breath. "That is all I can see. You must go quickly." She told Dean with a careful nod toward Sam.

"Thanks, Ileana, Tiberiu." Dean revved the Impala's engine as Sam pulled his door closed and raised a cloud of dust as he backed out of the encampment. "Eyes of the forest's dead? What the hell does that even mean?"

Sam thought back to their brief look inside the Moffat mansion. "In his study. There were hunting rifles over the fireplace. So, maybe the 'forests dead' means trophy kills?"

"Stuffed animal heads." Dean nodded. "Ok I'll buy that." The car roared off the forest track and back onto the black top as Dean floored it, determined to reach the mansion in record time. Sam had yet to stop rubbing that spot on his chest.

_**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-** _

The driveway to the mansion was blocked off with two rows of yellow crime scene tape when they reached it a half hour later. Dean drove them and poured on the gas toward the big house hoping they wouldn't find any cops in residence. Sam slumped in the passenger seat, face pale, eyes sunken and said little as they drove. "How you doin?"

Sam jerked his head up and nodded, making himself stop rubbing at the tingling spot on his chest. "I'm good." He wasn't, but he wasn't going to tell Dean that. He could feel himself getting weaker every moment that passed. It felt as though cold were stealing into his bones and some indefinable part of him was slowly leaking away.

Dean parked the Impala beside the house this time, finding no police cars in evidence. They were in a hurry. "Come on, kiddo. Let's go find this thing." Dean climbed, noting Sam's stiff movements as he followed. They had gotten no more than ten steps from the car when the back door opened and a small, blonde blur sped toward them, thumping into Sam's legs.

"Mihai?" Sam said in surprise and looked up to Dean. "What the hell?"

"I'll be damned." Dean groaned and covered his face with a hand for a second. "He stowed away? Geez kid this is not a place for you to be." Dean went and took one of Mihai's arms to put him back in the car but he wrapped his other firmly around Sam's upper thigh and wouldn't let go.

"Uh huh." Mihai said softly and looked up at both men with a pleading face. "Wanna help Sam."

"Oh man." Sam groaned and rested a hand in the kids' hair. "Mihai, it's not safe. You've gotta wait in the car." Mihai shook his head.

"We don't have time." Dean said and threw his arms out. "He's coming." He knelt beside the boy. "You stay close to Sam. Anything jumps out you get behind him." Mihai nodded, eyes wide and changed his grip to hold Sam's hand instead. Dean shook his head and headed for the house, Sam and Mihai trailing behind.

The interior of the house was the same as the last time they'd been there except now most of the surfaces were covered in a fine layer of fingerprinting dust from the police. They went quickly through the first floor to the stairs. Dean knew there was nothing like a trophy room down there and jogged up the first flight. At the turn he looked and saw Sam making much slower progress up the stairs.

"Sammy?" He asked. Sam looked up, exhaustion in every line of his face and gave him a thumbs up.

"I'm ok. Keep going." Sam told him and watched Dean nod and vanish up the stairs. "Gotta move faster, Mihai." Sam said, breathless and used the bannister to help pull him up the stairs. A feeling of heaviness was beginning to steal over him as they climbed. By the time they reached the top of the stairs, Sam was winded and breathing heavily. The tingling in the center of his chest had become a numbness and it was slowly spreading outward.

"Sam! It's here!" Dean's voice called from his right and he and Mihai went quickly down the hall, turning into a room that was creepy in the extreme. Heads from every animal imaginable lined all four walls and some even hanging, mounted from the ceiling. Bears, wolves, big cats and small, at least a dozen deer heads and something Sam was sure was once an anteater hung all about the room; dead eyes watching as they searched among the forest of tables and glass topped displays in the room.

"Which one is it?" Sam asked, panting for air as the numb feeling overtook his chest and began to inch down his arms and legs. There were necklaces, rings, vases and vials; it was a knick knack collectors dream. Sam swiveled his head from case to case, trying to discern which one was the Liche's Phylactery. He didn't realize he had begun to sink to the floor until he saw Mihai's worried face on a level with his own.

"Sammy!" Dean was suddenly there beside them, holding Sam's shoulders and lowered him to the floor as he collapsed sideways.

"Dean." Sam breathed and worked hard at pulling in a deep breath. "Hurry." Dean watched, helpless as Sam's eyes closed and all the remaining color leached out of his face. Mihai pulled Sam's head and shoulders into his lap, wrapping his arms around his neck and held him.

Dean growled and stood, stalking among the cases and the dozens of possibilities. His eyes stopped on one case, near the far corner. He walked closer to it and narrowed his eyes. In the case was an antique apothecary's vial. It was tall and narrow, made of blue glass with an elaborate stopper and lying around it on its velvet pillow was a Rosary made of Tiger's Eye stone.

"Beads of a man once holy." Dean whispered and opened the case. He picked up the vial and could almost feel evil pouring off the thing into his hands as he held it. Thankfully, destroying a Phylactery required no complicated measures. It was as simple as smashing it and he did. Dean launched the glass across the room into the wall and watched with satisfaction as it shattered. A dark light grew from the broken pieces, exploding out into the room. At the same moment, Sam gave a startled cry; back arching up off the floor as he filled his lungs and then fell silent, dropping into Mihai's lap once more.

"Sammy." Dean went to them and pulled his brother from Mihai's lap. His heart was beating sluggishly but no breaths were passing his lips. "Come on, Sam." Dean laid him down, tilted his head back and forced two breaths into his brother's lungs. "Breathe dammit." He pushed more air into Sam and heaved a breath when Sam gasped in air, head arching back in Dean's hand. "That's it, tiger."

"Gah…crap." Sam groaned, opening his eyes. "That…hurt." He put a shaking hand to his chest, rubbing at the ache centered there. "Thanks, Dean." He managed. He had felt himself dying. It was a feeling he hoped he never had to experience again, the feeling of his soul being sucked out of him. Dean clasped a hand around Sam's shoulder and just held on for a moment, settling himself as well as his brother.

"Ok, let's get out of here before someone finds us." Dean stood and reached down for Sam. "Get shorty here back to camp." He pulled Sam's arms, tugging him up from the floor with Mihai pushing from behind and got Sam swaying between them.

Sam dropped his head, the floor spinning in opposite directions from the walls and closed his eyes to try and orient himself.

"Sam?" Dean put a hand on his neck and Sam nodded.

"Dizzy." Sam argued with his head, begging it to stop, to play nice. "Sorry."

"What for?" Dean asked just as Sam folded into his arms. Dean grunted and took all his weight. "Hell. Ok, Mihai. Time to go home." Dean bent and got Sam up over his shoulder and smirked when he felt the boys hand slide into his own.

Once at the car, Dean slid Sam into the back seat and chuckled as Mihai crawled in with him. The boy maneuvered himself so he was once again sitting with Sam's head and shoulders in his lap, arms around him and rested his cheek in Sam's dark hair.

"What is it with you and Sam, kid?" Dean asked fondly and Mihai looked up to him with a small smile.

"Sam saved me." Mihai whispered and Dean nodded.

"Ok, kid. You just…make sure he keeps breathing." Dean ruffled a hand fondly in the boys' hair and shut the door on his fervent nod. He slid in behind the wheel, started the engine and looked into the rearview mirror in surprise as he heard a soft voice. Mihai's head was resting in Sam's hair still and the little boy was crooning something softly in Romanian to his little brother. Dean chuckled and shook his head. He was going to enjoy teasing Sam about this later.

_**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0** _

Three days later, Sam and Dean stood in the center of the gypsy encampment surrounded by new friends and made their farewells. Tiberiu crushed each man in a hug, lifting them one at a time off the ground and setting them back down with a laugh. Sam stepped away as they shook hands and turned to find Mihai waiting behind him.

Sam smiled and put his arms out. Mihai grinned and jumped up, letting Sam pick him up and eagerly snuggled into Sam's chest, arms slinging around his neck. "I'm gonna miss you, kid." Sam said fondly to the blonde head under his chin.

"Miss you too." Mihai said and leaned back so he could look at Sam. "I could come." He said fervently and grinned. "Wanna be like you." Sam's jaw dropped as Dean began laughing beside him and clapped a hand on Sam's shoulder.

"Now you know how I felt when you were that age." Dean chuckled and left him to follow Ileana as she drew him aside.

"Come boy." Ileana pulled him away from the others, Tiberiu beside them and looked up at Dean with serious eyes. "Something is coming. I saw it in the leaves." She nodded. "For you and him both." She nodded to Sam. "A great darkness. I cannot tell you vhat I saw."

"Why not?" Dean asked, suddenly angry as he remembered what she had said to Sam the last time she'd looked into his future; how she had cried and thanked him for something she wouldn't say. "Why the hell not?"

Ileana shook her head sadly and reached a hand up to touch his face. "All I can tell you is you must trust in each other. Together you are stronger." She patted his cheek firmly and gave him a watery smile. "But you know this already. Good journey, curajos omul." Ileana left him standing there, sucking back his irritation.

"What'd she call me?" Dean asked of Tiberiu finally and the strong man chuckled.

"Brave man." Tiberiu nodded. He looked over Dean's shoulder and frowned even as a laugh burbled up. "Ve should go get little man. He is about to be having trouble again I think."

"Huh?" Dean spun and saw the two gypsy girls from earlier latching on to his brother as he set Mihai back on the ground. Sam put his hands up and backed a step but the girls each had a hold of one arm, tugging. Dean smirked, grinned and finally burst out laughing when it became clear they were arguing over him and loudly in Romanian. "Oh, Sammy, Sammy." Dean shook his head and headed over to save him from himself.

"Girls. Really, we have to go." Sam argued and tried to gently pry their hands from his sleeves.

"No, no. You vill stay." Eliska purred up at Sam, putting her other hand on his chest, tangling her fingers in his shirt.

"Yes stay, but vith me." Katya glared at the other girl and reached across, grabbing Eliska's hand and giving a pull. Sam's shirt parted with a rip under the stress and he rolled his eyes to the sky for patience as Dean stepped up beside him.

"Girl trouble, little brother?" Dean winked, still laughing and pulled him back as the girls began arguing in earnest.

"You should go before they realize." Tiberiu wiped tears of laughter from his eyes as the cat fight escalated. "They are too much for you little man." He told Sam, grinning at the look on the younger Winchester's face. "They vould eat you alive."

Sam gave up and laughed, waving a hand. "I can believe it."

"Come on, Romeo." Dean turned Sam and gave him a push toward the Impala. They climbed in together and waved at Tiberiu as Dean backed slowly out of the camp. He'd given the Romanian a card with their numbers in case he ever needed them again. He and Tiberiu had gone back to the mine's while Sam was healing and found that all the ghosts seemed to have gone back to their rest without the Liche stirring them up. Dean had salted and burned the Liche's remains with joy and left the mine's feeling a bit lighter at heart.

Dean looked over at his brother, trying uselessly to pull his torn shirt back together and laughed. "Dude, you got beat by girls." He said, laughing harder when Sam glared at him. "Gypsy girls." Sam flipped him a finger and Dean wiped tears from his eyes. "Twice."

"Oh bite me, Dean." Sam ground out and let his head fall back, resigned to let his older brother laugh himself out since Tiberiu had told him about the punch he'd taken from Katya in the clearing. He groaned as Dean's laughter finally began to die away and aimed a light punch at his shoulder in retaliation. "You tell anyone about the girls and I'm telling Bobby about the dress."

"You wouldn't." Dean glared, humor forgotten under that threat and Sam only grinned innocently at him.

"I would." Sam chuckled and let his head roll to rest against the window. "Dammit I missed you, Dean." He said softly. He figured Dean would say nothing to that, his hatred of chick flick moments something that would never change and so Sam was surprised when he felt Dean's hand slide behind his head to grip his neck lightly before going back to the wheel. Tears sprung to his eyes and he quickly blinked them away for Dean's sake as the Impala hit the open road and roared down the highway.

_**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-** _

_**The End.** _

_**-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-** _

**A/N DON'T GO ANYWHERE!** :D If you prompted this story, you'll find your name in the list below. As a thank you to all of you who did such an amazing job keeping me on my toes, I offer the only gift I can give. _**A One Shot Story of your choosing**_. Either comment this chapter or Private Message with:  Which season you would like it set in and what you would like the story to be about either in general or in detail. Anything your little supernatural hearts desire. Except Wincest. As stated in every chapter...I don't do that. :D

Again, if your name is on the list, you've earned a special One Shot written just for you to your specifications. Comment or PM what you want and I'll write it. Thank you all again! This has been a hell of a fun challenge and don't worry, we'll play this game again. :D This was only the first edition.

_Carry on!_

**Prompters Extraordinaire:**

Brielle-W

Colby's Girl

Deanlovespie

Fayesnuttytart

Hinfallend

Jeanny

jennytork

judyann

Kelisem

LadyBeryl

LaedieDuske

Leahelisabeth

LeighAnnWallace

Little White Comet

sammynanci

Shannanigans

Souless666

Sparkiebunny

threedays


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